The crass she-wolf had already been awake, her demeanor weary and uneasy, when she noticed the Delta who'd blown her cover stand in the low lying den. In actuality, Yuki had been drifting in and out of restless states of near slumber since she'd been paraded back to her temporary holding cell, and she made a mocking snort beneath her breath at her own exhaustion. She had only just recently recovered from the irate insomnia of war, and she would have welcomed a decent night's rest after the humiliation of her failure and the long hours she spent scouting. Her body, however, seemed to be in direct opposition to the desires of her brash mind, and she swiftly found herself incapable of drifting into any real kind of sleep.

She had felt the prying eyes of her captors scouring through her back all night, even if no one was specifically there to watch her. She had initially considered making an escape, but ultimately decided slipping away quietly wasn't an option with the delta's stocky body blocking the egress. She assumed she could have dug her way out of the back, but that likely would have taken ages at an inaudible pace. Aside from that, her ankle was, much to her patent chagrin and resentment, completely useless broken. She doubted she really could have gotten far on three legs alone.

A quiet, bitter growl emanated from her maw as the other Fae howled vociferously from outside, and she bent her ears back slightly as she glowered ruefully at the den wall through baleful slits. What is that dolt doing now? Putting me on display? Having the wary focuses of an entire pack gawking at her like some mutated squirrel was not an activity she imagined herself enjoying, especially since a few of them had seen her elsewhere before. She couldn't care less what they thought of her; she never had, for anyone. But being the center of attention was a concept she'd rather avoid, seeing as she hadn't quite been forced into such a hostile place since her adolescence. Well, I'm definitely not going to sit back and take anyone's shit. She scoffed snidely to herself, her usually defensive disposition cradling her like an opaque wall.

She flicked her steel like gaze back towards the Pyrvanthros she-wolf at her sharp barking, a sarcastically vehement smile easily fall in over her maw. "Oh, is it morning already? I hadn't noticed." She pushed herself briskly to her paws, her broken ankle held up slightly from the ground as she hobbled towards the den's entrance. She offered the fae- Tatsu, wasn't it?- a patently false grin of gratitude, her claws sinking harshly into the compact soil beneath her. "Thanks by the way, for snapping my ankle. Made for a real comfortable rest, it's definitely much better this way." She knew, quite after the fact, that her spite was somewhat unwarranted. The delta had done what she deemed necessary to impede an intruder; her frustration over her own mistakes weren't really the fae's problem.

After a short wait, the figure of another she-wolf came bounding towards them from a den not too far away, and the austere scout silently assumed the white furred Fae was answering the other's call. Tatsu had stated someone was going to tend to her injury, and she guessed the wolf who approached them was likely one of the pack's healers. She listened in abject silence to the she-wolf's address, and it was only after she heard her demure voice and had further examined the Fae did she realize that she had seen her before. Right... On the beach. She was the one hiding behind Malachai.

She swallowed in quiet discomfort as she thought of her friend, her stolid silver focus softening slightly as it veered off towards the side. She had seen Malachai the night before- or, rather, caught a glimpse of him. She had yet to speak to him directly since her capture, and she wasn't certain what he'd make of the situation. He knew her immense loathing of Erenyx's ruling slug was entirely genuine, but she didn't know how he'd feel about her potentially endangering his pack with her presence. Likely not well. She didn't want to lose his trust; she hadn't been granted such a thing by anyone since her sister's death.

Yuki scoffed somewhat at the delta's curt retort, the vehemence of her expression subsiding into a dull smirk. "Right, ok. So the next time my petty excuse for an alpha mutilates a companion of yours and threatens to demolish your pack, I'll just ignore it and let him do what he will. Note taken." She knew her bitterness was fairly frivolous now; arguing with the Fae was completely illogical. All she was doing was exacerbating already high tensions, and if she wanted these wolves to trust her warnings, she would have to act with a bit more patience. The thought irritated her the moment it crossed her mind; she wasn't one to let others demean her. Oh come on, this is stupid. She asserted stridently to herself before expelling a short huff, her inflamed disposition gradually cooling into an austere apathy. You're just throwing a fit because of your own negligence. Grow the hell up. If you really want to help these wolves, don't chew their ears off every time you open your mouth. Subsequently she kept her maw shut as Tatsu addressed the healer, though she did offer the delta a diminutive smirk of mocking at her indirect threats.

As she turned her flint like focus towards the healer, She noticed the astonishment that flashed across her expression, and she assumed then the Fae had recognized her as well. She'd caught the name Eirwen from the delta's greeting, and her snide disposition slackened somewhat as she watched the she-wolf. There was something else familiar about her, though she wasn't certain exactly as to what it was. She'd only ever seen the healer once before.

Her pondering was interrupted by the appearance of another wolf shambling up behind the delta, and she narrowed her eyes slightly as she examined the gray furred male's demeanor. He seemed as though he was disconcerted by something, though he had no trouble getting close to his superior. If this were Erenyx, she'd threaten to rip your hide from your bones. She didn't care for the rank system and often made her feelings clear when higher ups attempted to belittle her, but the authority figures of her pack took caste ridiculously seriously. A wolf of lower rank would never be permitted to greet a delta in such a casual manner. Well, at least these wolves aren't scrambling to invoke superiority all the damn time.

The male revealed himself to be another healer, though his wariness at her intrusion was fairly palpable beneath his cordial facade. She couldn't say she appreciated wolves like that; he was merely hiding his candid thoughts and feelings because he didn't want to upset anyone, didn't want anyone to be upset with him. For a she-wolf as unapologetically blunt as her, he seemed to be rather diffident, weak willed and faint of heart.

His colleague seemed happy enough to have his company, however, and once again the scout found herself subtly perplexed by the she-wolf's demure demeanor and timid tone. Her stature and appearance were familiar as well, and a fresh wave of agony, recollection, and guilt sliced through her chest at her kind words. It was obvious then; this she-wolf reminded her of her sister. Their dispositions were similar, their temperaments, their voices; she even looked a great deal like the sibling she'd lost, aside from the color of her eyes. She swallowed the hard lump closing up her throat before shifting her harsh steel gaze over to the side, her body tensing with a loathing regret so deeply rooted she barely managed to conceal it. "Just do what you need to." She muttered, her tone a bit more sharp than she'd intended it to be. She didn't want to be reminded of that failure, of the objective that was still far out of her reach. She assumed her captors would merely attribute it to her general crabbiness, but beneath her russet pelt her blood was boiling. She wasn't happy she'd been captured, but she was glad she had the opportunity to shove Teren even an inch closer to his own demise. She was going to spill every bit of knowledge she had on the pathetic waste, every strategy and tactic she'd conjured to combat him. She was going to ensure he and Hasoka and every other depraved creature like them would be sent to hell where they belonged, and she swore on her life, she would not lose another wolf she cared about or trusted.

The scout released a short huff as Tatsu repeated her explanation of her presence, a diminutive smirk evident on her maw. Was "guest" her name now? That seemed almost too polite; she wasn't overtly skilled in the methods of manners and etiquette, but she was somewhat certain a host wouldn't snap their company's bones and hold them imprisoned against their will. "I prefer Yuki, you know." She interjected, her tone blunt, though her demeanor was far more nonchalant. If she was going to be staying here, they may as well know her name. It'd be far less grating than constantly listening to this pack's superiors attempt to palliate the situation.

She listened in quiet indifference as the healers discussed the necessary tools for their craft, the herbs they named meaning very little to her. She knew next to nothing about healing; all she was aware of was that someone had stymied her wounds from the war, and they'd been far too deep to simply disappear without scarring over significantly. She'd passed out due to their severity, and was subsequently unable to guess at what specific medicinal aid she was given. The only herb she recognized was poppy, though, she was fairly certain everyone knew what that did.

She pricked her ears slightly in subtle alertness at the white she-wolf's abrupt inquiry, her expression guarded. She could tell by her tone that the healer appeared to share her colleague's wary sentiments, and she sighed quietly beneath her breath, her steel focus shifting off to the side. Their caution was reasonable, she was well aware. Any pack would be on edge with an intruder in their midst without explanation. She didn't know how exactly Tatsu planned on answering her question, though she was fairly certain it wouldn't involve Yuki's side. She had already made it patently clear she didn't trust the scout or her word. Does she really think Teren wouldn't have found out if I met with Magnus and Chiara directly? That he or Irrationality or Braelyn wouldn't have recognized their scents and questioned why they were present in our camp? She doubted she could have masked their smells effectively enough; it hadn't worked here, after all. What's more... She didn't know the alphas, not like she knew their elite. She had only met them each once, and while she was confident their ambitions weren't heinous, she didn't trust their methods as much as she trusted her own.

The notion reminded her of the looming uncertainty of her own fate, and a minute knot twisted irritably in the pit of her stomach. Her return to Erenyx would undoubtedly be an unpleasant experience, but she felt assured that she could guarantee the preservation of her own life so long as she had something to tell the monster, preferably something she could utilize against him. She responded to Eirwen before the delta could spout something vague or malevolent, her tone nonchalant. "I came here of my own accord, for selfish reasons." She stated resolutely, her tone far less bitter than her previous address, and she turned her snout towards the healer then, a minute, mocking smirk passing briefly over her maw. "My oblivious little blood lusting king didn't send me, so you can stop worrying." Her sarcasm had lost a great deal of its bite, and it could be supposed her demeanor was something opposed to hostility.

She watched as the gray male returned, his jaws filled with a bundle of leaves and his gait awkward and stiff. She listened apathetically to his curt explanation of the herbs and what each was meant to do, though she did narrow her eyes slightly at his mention of pain relievers. She hadn't ever required something of the sort before and she wasn't extraordinarily thrilled by the idea of being deprived of her awareness as well as the use of her leg. She did her best to remain still while the fae applied the poultice, her injury throbbing dully with a persistent pain. The news that her ankle would have to be forced back into place wasn't ideal, but she held her tongue regardless, her demeanor austere. She could handle whatever agony there was to endure.