Mortis had made plans with Malalia, to meet her at the border, and start a patrol together. Both wolves had, separately, been tasked with the job of border patrols. Mortis, because he was Heir, and Malalia, because the Warlord wanted her to rise within the ranks. Doing some of his patrols with a friend sounded much more fun than doing them alone. His first few times around the border had been exciting, but after that it had become very repetitive, and he struggled to remember that he couldn’t get side tracked, and run after anything that caught his fancy. Doing them with Malalia, offered a fresh, new shine to the job. He rose earlier then he needed to, grabbing a quick bite from the kill pile, and prancing towards the border. He began to stretch, and practiced his fighting moves in the crisp, winter-morning air as he waited for her. "Mortis"

Despite her usual penchant for waking late and going to bed later, mornings weren't all bad, especially when she was prepared for them. Malalia was bright and chipper as she made her way towards the border, where she planned to meet the cheerier Armada heir. Pachou followed close at her heels, complacent with the meal they'd shared and completely attentive, for once. Recently, training the wolverine had focused on his attention span, how quickly and precisely he followed her commands and how long he could hold them. It wasn't easy, but they were reaching milestones every day.

They both were. This patrol would be the first of, hopefully, a growing list of responsibilities within the Armada. More than anything, she wanted to become the best warrior she could be. For herself. For the Armada.

The winged pup soon came into view and Mal smiled, seeing him practicing his fighting moves. She lifted her nose to the chilly air, grinning when she realized that the wind was in her favor. Of course, across the treeless plain he might spy her anyway, but that didn't stop the wolf from treading quickly and silently across the grass, and leaping up in an attempt to tackle him from behind. "Good morning!"


"Speech"

Spreading out his attention was one of the things the boy dearly needed to work on. As it was, he was lost in the motions of the fight, kicking back imaginary foe with a powerful sweep of his paw, buffeting them with a motion of his right wing. He was enjoying the made up battle so much, that he had not noticed his patrol buddy had found him. Not until she was upon him, and knocking his badly balanced body to the ground. He made an 'oof' noise as he ate dirt, and his wings spread out either side of his prone body. If Mal landed too with the force of knocking him over, at least she would have a soft landing.

He groaned and got to his feet, shaking out his body playing it up, and looking like he was about ready to topple over. Dazed, and beaten up by her violent attack...
And then he launched himself at her with a battle cry, recovering with remarkable speed, and a grin, as he dove low, aiming to smack into her forpaws in an attempt to see her go tumbling this time around. As he made the action, the young boy was laughing. She had gotten him fair and square, but that didnt mean he wasnt going to retaliate.

As Mal crashed into the boy, she did fall with him with a soft thump, but easily used the momentum to continue rolling, nose to tail, away from him. She hopped up onto her paws, tongue lolling and eyes bright -- and only just in time to leap nimbly to the side as Mortis dove for her forepaws. She gave him a friendly bonk on his shoulder as he passed. The she-wolf was far quicker than the boy... but in truth he had almost gotten her.

"I see someone's been training hard." That reminded her, she'd need to start running again. Perhaps she wasn't the best at fighting above her weight class, but Mal hoped to be the fastest wolf in the Armada, and one didn't get there by slacking off.

Bouncing on her toes, she nodded in the opposite direction to her right, starting along the east run of the border. "Ready to go?" Without another word she set at a quick dash to put some distance between them, then slowed to an easy walk to give the boy time to catch up.


"Speech"

His dive missed her, and she managed to find time to bonk him as he sailed on by. He landed hard again, with no Mal legs greeting him to break the momentum. When he struggled back to his feet - again - thoroughly humiliated and laughing, she would greet him. He grinned ruefully at her, shaking out his coat again. Somehow, he had gotten himself coated in mud and snow from the thin layer of white that sprinkled across the land this morning. Oh how he would love to beat Malalia, just once.

Mortis was not in the run to be Reaper, but he was trying to prove his worth as heir. He liked to think he trained hard, but the truth was he got distracted easily. Somehow he doubted Malalia had that issue.

He yelped in surprise when she took of running, and he stumbled after her. He still had a little bit of growing to do, and it showed in his over sized paws. He had to work hard to keep up a good pace, and Malalia was miles ahead of him by the time she slowed. He was panting hard by the time he caught up to the slim girl. As he came up beside her, he have her a nudge with his wing. Pushing it out from his body and into her. "I think were suppose to be patrolling, not running" he joked.

She laughed good-naturedly when Mortis came bundling up to her sporting a coat of mud and ice. She hadn't thought the boy would tumble as he had. Truthfully, with his edge on height, she often forgot that the boy was an overgrown pup and still growing into himself. An overgrown pup with wings, soon evidenced by the nudge he gave her with his own. She stumbled lightly from the push -- more from her own unpreparedness than the force of the move itself -- and rolled her eyes hard at his next comment.

"Yeah, okay smarty-pants," she huffed, ears flattening in joke dismay before her features relaxed. Her eyes easily zoned in on the nearby scenery as their path was gently nudged southward by the curving river, the gentle bubbling reaching her ears. She could see the weeping tendrils of the willow trees, still some distance ahead. Several were still richly orange from the turn of the season, clinging to their leaves. Her nose twitched, jaw parted for strange scents -- predators, trespassing wolves, whatever didn't belong here.

"Since we're on a patrol," she continued, raising a brow at the boy before sliding her gaze back to the path ahead, "tell me something that you see, or smell. And don't just say the grass," she deadpanned. Something like "I spy," maybe. Truth be told, Mal found patrols as boring as Mort did, though she hid it well. Perhaps it would take a while before something interesting popped up. Most patrols were routine. Then again, that fling with the wild dogs was certainly unexpected....


"Speech"

He poked her again as she offered up a pitiful expression of demay. “At least we aren’t patrolling alone” he pointed out. He had done enough of that lately, or at least as close to it. Bast or Marshal kept an eye on him in case he ran into any trouble, but they weren’t exactly great conversationalists, especially when they did their watching from a distance. He followed her eyes along the stream that supplied the Armada with most of their fresh water, and watered the garden Bird maintained. “Has Da given you a plot of land for your own herbs?” he mused out loud, having heard in passing that she had started to train under Io. He wondered if she and Indy had crossed paths, since he also took healing lessons from their Auntie. “Hmmm…” he mused, and of course, had to say something cheeky, just because of her grass comment. “I smell… Snow. I also smell Bird’s herb garden” he would quickly add, just in case she decided to push him for being a smarty pants. "Mortis"

A small chuckle escaped her. "That's true. Patrols aren't my favorite thing ever... honestly I'd rather be training," she sighed. "It's much more exciting." Then she shrugged. "It's gotta be done, though." When she'd first begun, it was admittedly relaxing -- the repetitive fall of her paws along the familiar trail; taking in the whole of the Armada's territory. It was a brief respite from her constantly-moving routine, and even the energetic young woman needed a break now and again.

But one could only follow the same trails so many times until they got bored of them. Even the changing landscape was not enough to hold her interest. Mal carried out her duties, well, dutifully, but that was the extent of her commitment.

Mort's company was wanted, and his next question grabbed her attention. Thinking, she bent down to sniff at a prey trail, noting the stench of something rancid. Hoof disease. Maybe she and Mortis could track it down, after their hunt. Her ears flicked thoughtfully. "He hasn't actually," she answered, moving along. "I doubt he would give me one at the start of winter... but anyway, I guess I thought the garden in Io's cottage was the only one on the territory?"

She was mistaken, though. Malalia didn't expect to have any plots of land outside of her own den. Too, the small herb garden that Pia had kept had been the sole source of herbs for her former pack, so the idea was a bit unexpected. She hadn't seen Bird's or Indigo's gardens as of yet.

Mal couldn't help but snort loudly at Mort's chosen scent. How can you even smell snow??? "Wow, okay, you know what..." The empty, unnamed threat hung in the air, and his quick recovery only made her narrow her eyes. "Uh huh, okay. I smell.... you." She wrinkled her nose. "You're pretty funky, you know that?" Of course, it was entirely in jest, a smirk playing on her lips as she took a few dramatic steps away from the boy.

They kept walking for quite a while, eventually coming to the halfway point of their patrol. Mala was paying attention, but the boredom was clearly evident on her face.


"Speech"

“Oh, no” Mortis disagreed, surprised she would think that. “Auntie’s is the most elaborate and biggest, but not the only one. Bird has a little plot, and Indy does, too. I guess that's true about winter. Indy’s really upset that his garden died. Auntie said it’s normal.” he prattled on a little. He wondered if Mal would get a garden of her own soon. Or maybe not soon how long did a winter last again? As much as he enjoyed the snow, he missed swimming, and the sun, and growing things. Mostly he missed Indy’s smile. “I smell like mud, and like my border patrol buddy doesn't play fair” he joked. He was mostly ignoring the feel of mud in his coat. He really didn’t want to take a bath in the freezing cold water. Maybe his dad would let him go to the hot springs later, and wash up there. That wasn’t too far away, and he would only freeze after he got out of the water. Or so he had heard. “I smell… well, mostly Birds garden” he veered off the border slightly, bringing them closer to the little garden the tiny wolf had created. He climbed over the fence, and looked over the dying garden. It looks like there were still herbs poking through, that the frost hadn’t destroyed yet. “Do you know what any of them are?” he asked his border patrol buddy. "Mortis"

Though she didn't know him well, she frowned lightly to hear of Indigo's plight. He didn't know that most plants died off in the colder seasons? The leaves changing colors, it wasn't just a pretty sight to see. Although... she realized that the pups hadn't even experienced a full change of seasons. This would be their first winter, wouldn't it? She huffed softly, remembering her wonder at the first few snows.

Mal rolled her eyes at Mortis' comment. "Life isn't fair. Surely someone's told you that by now, haven't they?" But her tone was humorous and without malice as they picked along the border. Perhaps the young one had a bitter relationship with that idiom, but it was forgotten for the moment as the young wolves padded on.

Soon enough, though, he was leading him to Bird's tiny garden. Her ears flattened at the side of graying, decaying herbs, much of the place encrusted with ice, and she couldn't help but feel for Indy. It was sad, to see the life draining out of the garden like this. But as Mortis pointed out, it wasn't all gone. "Lavender," she said, indicating a plant with a purple clump of flowers on its head. It grew well on the dry soil here, and was still clinging to life. "And marigold," she said, gesturing to the bright yellow flowerheads a bit farther away. They seemed to be faring worse, the little flowerheads shriveled and minuscule, but the dried petals would still be useful. "Motherwort, too." Her head raised over to Mortis.

"Do you know anything about herbs or healing?" she asked curiously. The rambunctious boy seemed the fighting sort, but then again, so was she.

"Speech"

Her words brought back memories of his first day out of the den. Back when he had not understood life and death. He had killed a baby bird with clumsy puppy paws, and been so upset that he was inconsolable. Asla had not understood his reaction, but loved him regardless. Azure had considered him weak, and pushed him of a cliff not long after. His first and thus far only broken bone had occured.

He shook the thoughts from his mind, jumping back into his bright nature. "I may have heard it once and twice, but I think we make our own fairness, and live by it." He would never let what Azure did to him change him. "Has life been hard to you?" He wondered, curious, but voice soft, for he knew he was prying. He had never asked her where she had lived before the Armada.

He looked to each herb as she pointed it out, curious and bright eyed. "No, I ha ent been taught. You seem to know the names pretty well. What do they do?" He wondered, taking more of an interest in it now then he had when it was alive and thriving.

Malalia grinned approvingly at Mortis' philosophy. "We make our own fairness," she repeated. The pup was wiser than she gave him credit for. She viewed Mortis a kid -- a fun, friendly kid, but a kid nonetheless -- but even kids had their insights. Azure certainly had, even if she disagreed with those.

She shrugged. "I suppose some would say it has." She wouldn't elaborate, not quite yet. In the meantime, she pointed out the plants and their various uses. "Motherwort is in the name. It's supposed to make childbirth easier by stimulating contractions." She moved onto the shriveled marigolds, taking up a tiny flowerhead in her paw. "The petals for these are great at soothing bee stings, bug bites, and small scratches. It's also good for sore throats," she explained. "Although I prefer honey myself. It's a little difficult to acquire, as you can probably guess." She'd never personally collected honey, but the idea of a swarm of dozy bees covering her face was not exactly enticing.

Malalia padded over to to the first herb she'd identified, flicking her tail for Mort to come closer. "You see how it has a soothing aroma? That's an easy way to remember its uses. Eating the petals can help calm you down, and many use it as a sleep aid." She flicked her ears. "Others for depression, too."

The earth might've been cold, but Malalia settled down anyway, careful not to lay on the plants that were already dead. "The pack I was born into--" A lump formed in her throat, but she spoke past it. "My natal pack was a combination of the original pack that lived on a stretch of grassland, and a new pack that challenged them. The challengers won, and ran off the original Alphas... but they kept the original members that survived the battle. The new Alpha, my father, married my mother, who was a member of the original pack. They thought it would... ease the tensions between the old and the new."

"Is that a little confusing?" She tilted her head. "It's easier having lived it," she laughed. She would pause here before she went on.

"Speech"

He was curious at what 'some' would say had been hard in her life. Curious, and a little sad. He hadnt thought before that hardship might have brought this lovely friend to them, but the possibility was there. The boy had been exposed to some hardships already in life, and he knew that they existed. Some part of him, perhaps the small part that took after his possessive father, wished he could have helped her in her dark parts.

He didnt push, showing he had some wisdom despite his curiosity. Instead, he let her turn the conversation to the flowers and herbs. He laughed softly in agreement. Honey was harder . "Dad cleared a beehive near the den a few weeks ago. I saw the stings he had for his trouble" Mort agreed

When she indicated he should approach, he did so, coming up alongside her, to lean over and inspect the herb she indicated. Lavander, she had called it. He took a deep breath, and smiled. "I recognize that smell, it's often in Io's den. Guess it calms her patients" he guessed. His tail gave a light wag behind him, enjoying the realization of the ones he had encountered before.

He settled when Mal did, this time sitting across from her, and simply listening when she spoke. She was taking them back to his earlier question, and answering it in further detail. "That sounds so much different to what we have with the Armada. We joined them because father loves and respects their leader. Did it ease it? The tensions, I mean. Did they love each other?"

She raised an eyebrow at Mort. "If I ever want to leave this pack one day -- and I'm not saying I do -- I would have to fight Sirius for that right. And I would lose. Why not just let me go?" She shrugged. "I'm not hating on your dad or anything, but.... packs have a lot of weird traditions, and mine wasn't the only one. And some of them make sense in a survivalist kind of way, I guess."

"For my old pack, for example, a lot of the land surrounding the territory was pretty barren. Chasing off the old Alphas was a necessity, but it would be overkill to chase off the rest of the pack, too. Especially when they knew the territory better. I guess the challengers thought they had better odds of surviving with them, than without them." She hummed in thought. "You know how male lions when they're trying to take over a pride, kill the males but let the females live? It was sort of like that."

Although looking back, it was less of a truce and closer to a hostage situation.

"I guess my point is, it's not always about love and respect. So to answer your question -- no. They didn't love each other." She paused again, taking a shaky breath. "But, I mean, this all happened before I was born, Mort. My sire died before I was born even, in a hunting accident, and left my dam to remain an Alpha. My childhood was pretty boring, honestly, up until about my first year. I actually spent my first few months with my Aunt Pia. She's the reason why I'm a healer, too," she smiled.

He blinked in surprise at her words, and realised his mistake. "Uhh.. I meant Ashen, not Armada, our sister pack." He explained. He had seen some similarity in the combining of her pack and the other, and Ashen and Armada. He was a little taken back, surprised at the direction of her thoughts. "I guess he runs himself ragged training us, and wants to make sure those that join want to stay?" He looked a little miserable with the direction of the conversation. "It is a hard rule." He admitted softly. He supposed a pack needed wolves to operate, but he hadnt considered the rule before. He had a lot to learn as heir.

Of course, her words had just been an example, and he was happy to steer the conversation away from it again. A thoughtful little frown between his eyes, as Mal did just that. Grief, he wasnt expecting what she said next. "Do they? That seems.. kind of horrible. So the females have to live with the lions that killed their fathers, brothers, sons?" He pulled a face. Mal was giving him a lot of hard truths today, and he wasn't sure what he thought of them. It did tell him he had a lot left to learn. It made his own small hardships nothing more then butterfly wingbeats in comparison.

He couldnt imagine parents that disnt live each other. He knew, even in his short life, that Sirius would lose his sanity, and probably his life, if Zee died. His parents had chosen each other, and loved each other with a passion. "I'm sorry." He said quietly, unsure what else to say about it. About her parents not loving each other, about not knowing her father. "You sound like you love your Auntie, why did you leave?" He asked, lost in the thoughts of her world, the past she had left behind. He wanted to know everything, even if it was hard. If he didnt know such things existed, how could he understand them?

Mal pursed her lips. "I understand why it's in place. I just don't think taking a wolf's freedom away is the fairest thing in the world. It's not about love and respect anymore, not where it counts. It's an exchange. It doesn't feel that way most of the time, thankfully. But what if I wanted to leave one day?" As uncomfortable as she could see she was making Mort, she was not the type to hold her tongue.

She winced at Mort's next words. "In a real lion pride, yes," she answered. "Regarding my pack... some of the wolves were killed in the battle, I think one or two, but the challengers didn't target the males explicitly.... But, yes, I suppose the survivors did have to live with their family's killers." Maybe she shouldn't have used that analogy. It made it sound worse than it was.... or maybe it really was that messed up? Gods, she was really bad at this.... whatever 'this' was.

She couldn't even bring herself to smile, even ruefully, at his last question. "The tensions were never resolved. It was in part due to my dam The... the original members didn't like how she was handling things. They thought when she became the sole Alpha, things would get better. But they believed that she catered to the new members too much. They thought that motherhood had made her soft, too willing to try for peace rather than justice. It -- it was a lot of things," she exhaled, "and I was too young to see and understand all of it. But ultimately they weren't happy with her. So they planned a takeover. It happened maybe a month after I became a yearling."

She cleared her throat. "Things got ugly. I'm not sure if they planned it that way, but... my dam was killed, as were my two siblings. I thought that I was next, so... I ran."

She shook her head. "I don't know what happened with Pia. She might've stayed, she might've gone, she might've been killed, too. I didn't stick around to find out."

"Da... Da is possessive, he would fight to his death to keep you safe, but I still agree, it's kind of a horrible rule." The young boy agreed. What if he wanted to leave one day? His father had mapped out his while life, he had never felt like he had room to leave that path. He had accepted his lot in life, and he did love the Armada, loved the wolves like Malalia, and Tam.

She spoke about the death of her mother, about the life she knew, and he looked at his paws for a moment, before reaching over and placing one over hers in an act of comfort. "I guess I don't think how precarious it all is, how easy it would be for a challanger or a real raid to change our lives." He reflected softly. The only comfort was knowing just goof a fighter his dad was, and the knowledge that is was Seers intention to keep them safe. "I cant imagine not knowing. When I'm a yearling, if you want, I can take you back there, to find out her fate. I would say to keep you safe, but... honestly you'll probably still be kicking my ass" he said, in an effort to lighten the mood. But he meant it, he wanted to help her face her past, and put it to rest. If her Auntie still lived, maybe she would want to offer her a place in the Armada, or just to be a part of her life again.

She smiled lightly at Mort's comment. As attached as she'd grown to Sirius, she hadn't quite realized he'd come to care for her, too. It may have been a horrible rule... but the image of Sirius kicking someone's ass to keep her safe was certainly heartwarming, in its own kind of morbid way.

She listened to the boy quietly, smiling lightly when he put his paw on hers, though at the mention of going back there.... she couldn't help but stiffen as a pang of emotions shot through her. She could barely parse them herself, a wallowing void of guilt and fear and sadness, at the idea, but she didn't want to be feeling it. She gently removed her paw from under his. "You don't have to do that," she breathed. Her ears flattened at his jest, and she chuckled lightly. "You bet I will be."

A drop of wetness reached her paws below, and she looked up, thinking it was raining. But suddenly she felt the heat and the moisture on her face. "Oh..." She sniffled, lifting up a paw to rub the tears away. "I'm sorry. We should... we should probably return to the patrol." She tried to wag her tail, but the gesture was weak, at best.

"I think, if our roles were reversed, you would do the same for me" he said quietly. The idea of even one wolf in his life dying... of any one of them having a fate unknown to him... it would eat him up inside. He squeezed her paw, and started to smile at her jest, and then... and then she was crying.

The young pulled wiggled forward, kissing her cheek like he did to his granny, his aunties, his sister. The motion utterly platonic, and purely a gesture of kindness. "I'm sorry Mal, I didnt meant to make you cry. I'm sorry the past hurts. Look... I could talk to dad, if you like. Maybe he cod send some warriors with us, and we could go check it out? I beg he wouldnt say no. He speaks of you as proudly as he does of his own kids. Prouder, sometimes" he said, thinking of Azure, and knew even himself that Mal was more honourable, and worked harder for what she had. He was sure if they asked, Sirius would help them put her past to rest. If there was anyone from her old life that needed rescuing... or anything like that, or at least just to know.

He got up, looking back across the border. He didnt want to go back to the patrol, he wanted to beat up the people who hurt his friend so bad.

She appreciated the touch of comfort he offered her. "It's not your fault," she hummed. It certainly wasn't him that had dredged up all these emotions. She thought she was past this. She thought if she could simply forget about it, and focus on her life within the Armada, these feelings would go away. But it clearly was not the case. The she-wolf only bristled when Mortis proposed dragging Sirius into this and... no. That was the exact opposite of what she wanted, and she just. Couldn't do that. Mort knew the bulk of her story now, but he still didn't know the well of emotions within her, that fought so badly against the idea of going back there. And how could he? Malalia could barely articulate it herself. And she certainly didn't want them digging up the past.

The faint spark of happiness at hearing that Sirius was proud of her couldn't stand up to the wave of panic that began to consume her. "Mortis." Her voice was strained, almost a whimper. "It's fine. Please don't get your dad involved."

She couldn't say more. She didn't have the time to. A familiar stench filled her nose, and the girl growled, turning just in time to see not one, but two of the wild dogs from before barreling towards them at full-speed, rapidly eating up the distance between them. The dogs had been downwind of the duo, and distracted as they were, they hadn't even seen them coming. Mal tossed a quick warning to her companion -- "Dogs!" -- And braced herself for the inevitable attack.