A dull buzzing echoed somewhere around the scout's pricked ear, and she narrowed her often harsh, steely gaze as she watched the engorged fly flit aimlessly about her, a faint irritation flaring beneath her russet pelt. It was unbearably humid outside, and while the north born fae often found summer in Erenyx scalding, the South lands were a thousand times worse. The den she'd been confined to was muggy and near suffocating, but she still hadn't moved from her leisure position since waking that morning. She'd actually slept the previous night, a miracle in of itself. She was well aware it was just something the healers had given her, poppy most likely; she never slept so late in the day of her own accord. Sometimes she didn't sleep at all.

She guessed it was around noon then, based on the relative distance of the entrance's shadow. She assumed there was most likely someone outside to ensure she would not attempt some foolhardy escape, though she didn't really care who it was at the moment. Tatsu had been tasked with overseeing her, and honestly the crass she-wolf wasn't in the mood to provoke her frivolous enmity with her presence. As if I'd be dumb enough to try to slip out the front, anyways. She didn't resent the delta; well not by a significant amount. She was merely growing somewhat restless in her currently useless state. Her ankle ached, but she wasn't a stranger to pain, especially not something as dull as that. She was just somewhat uncomfortable on three legs alone, limping along behind whatever escort her captors assigned to her. She'd only ever left the camp for a drink or to make dirt, and, though she'd never admit it, it unnerved her that she was incapable of operating at her full capacity. That's what embittered her most, her futility. She couldn't properly fight off an attacker, or hunt for herself, or even run past the speed of a gangly trot, as simple as the action seemed. Being imprisoned was subsequently an uncomfortable experience, not for the lack of luxury- as if she'd ever once been treated with such a thing nor expected it- but moreover, for her hindered independence.

When she was younger, and her mother no longer needed to nurse her or her siblings, she had spent the entirety of her life virtually alone. Hasoka forbade her and Usagi from entering the den they had shared with their parents around that time, and she'd been forced to scope out a new inhabitance for herself and her sister as a result. Their brother's patently condescending and cruel nature towards the young she-wolfs' quickly leeched like poison into their dimwitted peers and packmates, and there were many occasions when she discovered the den she had just dug out of the snow had mysteriously caved in, or someone else had uselessly claimed it as their own. She and her sister were persistently chased away from the kill pile, even when there was evidently little left but barren bone. She had to pick up hunting quickly, though her and her sibling's combined power couldn't ever bring down much more than runts and fawns and rabbits. She couldn't even begin to recall the number of nights the pair had gone hungry, slept huddled close together out in the open white. Even more abundant were the days her brother or their peers would saunter down to the pair and encircle them, nip at their scurrying heels and jibe and jeer about how weak and useless they were. She learned to use her teeth, and even more often her tongue. The harsh lashings her indomitable mocking provided were often far more scathing than the minor wounds she inflicted in their scuffles. Usagi tried, tried her hardest to fight, but she had been born small, and their harassers subsequently enjoyed terrorizing her even more. She hadn't the heart to harm, but Yuki, she definitely had the indignance, the resentment to. She'd spent her whole life in her homeland, since her puphood even, taking care of herself, taking care of her sister. And in the end it was all for naught.

She growled in subdued frustration as she irately shook out her head and fur, exasperated by the insect's relentless presence. She hated just sitting there, useless, whittling her time away with rest and nothingness. She was done resting, she'd had quite enough resting, what was her shit rag of a brother doing while she was trapped here? What was Teren doing? What were his mindless brothers doing? She glowered down balefully at her paws for a long cessation, her lip curled up in a silent snarl, before she flopped back down to her belly with an exasperated sigh, her snout resting warily on her tense paws. There wasn't anything she could do about her situation; growling about it was a stupid use of her time. Right, because there are plenty of important things to be done in here. She clipped sarcastically to herself, another heavy breath slipping from her maw. She'd already pondered various strategies to manipulate and dethrone Erenyx's authority; she'd spent plenty of nights contemplating that. Open combat was not one of the scrawny she wolf's strengths, but strategizing and laying traps were. She only wished she knew a bit more about the surrounding territories and what they had to offer an ambush, what lies she could concoct to lead her alpha and his council astray.

For a moment, she wondered what was unfolding in her pack. Certainly Teren's sons had begun training; he wouldn't waste a moment exploiting them. She wondered what Julianne had accomplished in her time there, if Tundra was still holding that oh so mighty rank of hers, if Piper was being respected as a warrior. She wondered if the ruling slug and his ilk were plotting the demise of one of their neighbors, if the scout they had had been tortured for information. And then, she found herself thinking of Malachai, and his laugh, and the danger him and all the rest could possibly be in. Had her actions made the situation better or worse? Had she derailed a war or exacerbated its potential with her capture? She couldn't say. It wasn't up to her to decide.

Sneaking off had not been a simple endeavor, but she was a scout, after all. Deceit was a strength of hers, an advantage that largely compensated for her various physical inadequacies. Teren and Hasoka and her birth pack believed her a worthless wolf. After all, what could a scrawny whelp do against a larger entity's brute force? A great deal, it so happened, though her brawnier peers preferred to ignore the fact. So scrawny wolves are sly, they prevaricate, they outwit. And consequently they are relegated to the shadows of contempt, confined to suspicion, lowliness, dishonor. Still she could not find the capacity to care. The delta's snapping about her slinking around could do little to breach the high, venomous walls she had constructed in her puphood. Scrawny wolves are sly, untrustworthy; fine. She did not care how she was perceived. Belittling could not harm her anymore, and she had a goal to achieve. She had a promise to keep, and the refreshing chill of the cool, almost wintery air of the snowy peak easily oriented her mind to the past, to the homeland that had rejected her and the monster who had taken everything from her. She couldn't fight those memories anymore, no matter how much they tore at her chest and tightened her throat. The frigid mountain breeze swept her Northward, and she remembered, and she sank her claws into the thin, icy snow beneath her pads, her sharpened steel gaze boring harshly off into the mist shrouded sky. Fine. She was a sly wolf, a lowly wolf, a liar and a trickster, but she would not break her promise. She would not give it up, and she didn't care whose trust she lost or passed on.

It was a stubborn thought, and yet it crumbled somewhat at the start of a familiar voice behind her, and she turned to face her friend abruptly, her injured ankle held up close to her belly. "Sir Elite." She addressed him with a well meaning scoff, though her teasing grin was somewhat tainted with a vulnerability she was usually far too careful to ever display. It didn't matter much anymore; she was at ease around him, something she hadn't been around much of anyone since her sister. She scoffed casually at his remark, her tone relaxed in spite of her sarcasm. "Oh? Watching me can't be that difficult a chore. Lame wolves don't get far, I've heard." She smiled with what was almost softness, but it swiftly dissipated at his inquire and the sound of his subsequent concern, a boulder of guilt settling in the pit of her stomach. She sat nonchalantly in the snow, her position awkward thanks to her injury, and her flint like gaze shifted slowly off to the side, her voice low.

"What's her name... Tatsu isn't it? She caught me trespassing in that canyon place, did my ankle in to keep me from slipping away." She commented languidly, almost as though she didn't care, despite the sharp unease darkening her steely gaze. "She's been quite the happy host. Never misses an opportunity to let me know I'm a scoundrel. You can't blame her though. To her I'm just Teren's eyes and ears. Surely she's just thrilled to have that in her camp. Yeah, I've seen the healers." The gray male had seemed far too concerned with how he was perceived, but remembering Eirwen had gradually pulled her thoughts back to her sibling, and Lark, and the weight in her stomach grew even more onerous.

She gazed down sternly at her paws, any semblance of a jocular manner slowly fading from her demeanor. "Damn it. Why is it that it feels like whenever I see you, I have to apologize for some thing?" She lifted her snout then to address him directly, her disposition bold and direct. "I came here to mislead Teren. He had mentioned to all of us his ultimate goal of conquering the 'traitors' pack,' and finding your scout in his territory didn't do much to stay his intentions. He's on edge, and I meant to warn you of that, because I..." She paused for a moment, for once, hesitant to speak her mind. "Because his wars are stupid, and I'm done fighting them. But... If you want the whole truth, I'll give it to you. I came here because there are many wolves I want to live, and there are a few I want to kill myself. There are a few I want to skin alive just like that pathetic waste prides himself in doing." She smiled as she spoke, but the grin was despairing, hollow; there would be no satisfaction in the acts she so desperately desired to commit, that she knew, but there was nothing else in existence that could heal what had been so profoundly wounded inside of her. She glanced up at the bright cyan sky above them, a sorrowful smile evident on her maw as she noticed where the sun sat in the afternoon blue. In a few hours, it would set, and she wondered if she would see the northern lights this far south.

"Why would I ever leave Erenyx. That really is where I belong. Maybe even more so when that tyrant is rotting in the ground. A wolf like you..." She snickered quietly beneath her breath, her hurt quietly hidden behind her jocular front. "I can't believe a wolf like you was even drawn there in the first place."