The brute had followed the Lead Warrior from the border to the pack clearing, depositing his rabbit on the dwindling kill pile. That was something he would have to work on. But it would have to wait for the following day. He wandered the clearing, becoming accustomed to its many scents and landmarks. Eventually, he chose a den a little ways from the main circle of the clearing, affording him the privacy he so enjoyed.


The sun rose early on the morning of Magnus' first full day in the Erenyx pack. He decided that he would spend the day hunting and stocking the kill pile as much as possible. With spring abound and prey returning to the area, the time was ripe. And with plenty of younglings for him to snap up, and proud mothers who would chase after him to avenge their child, he couldn't help but smile at the opportunity presented him. But being new, he didn't know any other hunters in the pack, nor who his Lead Hunter was. His only interaction so far had been with Lead Warrior Chiara.

Magnus stretched, bowing his chest low to the ground, enjoying the tingle that shot through him as his muscles began to awaken after a good nights rest. He straightened and shook out his tan fur, scenting the air. Perhaps if he found the fae, she could direct him to a Lead Hunter or at the least to the hunting grounds. Larger prey would require more wolves. Self-assured as he was, he knew it foolish to try to take down large prey alone. Stags could pose a great threat to a lone wolf. He tracked her to a den close to the leaders of the pack, as one would expect. He cleared his throat but decided against howling, preferring not to anger his superiors. He would wait for her to rise in his own time. He settled himself on his hindquarters to wait for Lead Warrior Chiara.

A goods night rest brought the fae peace after a long day of patrolling. In her den lined with deer hides she stretched out, comfortable as sleep hung around her in a veil. Yawning as the sun outside awoke her she pushed at invisible walls to make her spine crack and her joints pop. Feeling better she swung on to her feet and into a stand. Blinking at the light she forced herself out and into a while midst of light. Squinting until her eyes adjusted she looked around, seeing little activity aside from a pack member or two. Near the outskirts of the den circle, however, say a new member who stood out to everyone.

Magnus sat there looking ready to go while the fae staggered on her feet, obviously still tired. Yawning loudly she approached the male and sat down across from him. "Hello Magnus I trust you slept well? The same can't be said for me for a few extra minutes would have done me some good. Why are you just sitting out here? Waiting for someone?" She asked, shaking off the urge to yawn again. Looking around she noticed the prey pile was poorly stocked, probably due to the fact that they had no proper hunters to hunt, until now. "I was thinking of scouting out some real food fi you'd like to join me. That way you can see the territory when you don't need me to babysit you anymore." She said, rising to her feet and looking to the forest.

The brute was surprised at how soon the lead warrior made an appearance. He watched her carefully as she made her way to him and their amber eyes met once more. She seemed somewhat fatigued, but only as one would after being roused from sleep. She greeted him, politely inquiring as to his previous nights rest. Greetings to you too, Chiara. Thank you, my rest was pleasant enough but I am disheartened to find that you could have done with a few more moments. Magnus was quick to follow her gaze to the very dismal kill pile as he listened to her speak. Her offer to hunt alongside him was a welcome one. He chuckled deeply at her last remark.

Come now. You know you love every moment you spend with me. But it would be nice to know the territory a little better, that I might roam in peace when it is required. He rose to his feet, as did she, and they both looked out at the expanse of the forest before them. He strode confidently past her, nudging her with his hip as he did. But he did not go very far. Reaching the tree line, he turned to face the fae, his hard soldiers facade taking over at the thought of the hunt. Lets get a move on, then. We should hunt before the day grows too long and the sun rises too high. There is much to do, and less time to do it in. He waited for Chiara to direct him, for he did not know where prey made its home in this land.

At his touch and flirty words Chiara snarled at him and cuffed at his maw. The last thing she had ever thought was that she was leading the male on. It had never been her intention and she was unsure where the notion came from in his mind. "Keep your paws to yourself male lest you need a reminder from my fangs who outranks you." She warned, moving away from him to stare at the dismal kill pile. With the warm weather here there should be more prey, but without hunters she could understand why there wasn't. Magnus would have his work cut out for him with filling the pile. As the sun rose and Chiara could feel noon coming on she nodded at his statement that they should get going.

Rising to her feet she started to walk into the forest, looking back over her shoulder at the hunter. "Coming Mag?" She teased flicking her tail at him before bursting into a run to the woods. Her strides grew as she ran through the trees, her tail stretched out like a banner behind her. Wondering if Magnus was keeping up she turned her head slightly, losing sight of him, thus she slowed to a stop deep in the woods and sat to wait for him.

The fae snapped back as he knew she would. Riling her up brought him much enjoyment. He likes getting a reaction out of her, it showed how different she was to other faes he'd met. But if he moved up in rank, perhaps even surpassed her, would she change how she acted around him? It was a thought that once plagued him in his old pack. Being next in line for the position as Guardian, every fae wanted to be his mate for the title Guardian would also go to her. Even wolves who were nowhere near worthy of his affections. And it especially irked him when wolves who had no business seeking the role of Guardian tried to win him over. In his old pack, Chiara would have been a perfect candidate. Strong, loyal, dedicated... Beautiful. He stopped himself short when he found himself thinking that word. He was no sap.

She called to him and darted off through the trees. He responded instantly, shooting forward and following her scent trail. His legs pumped with all the power they held, wanting to show off to the fae. With every breath the scent became minutely fresher as he caught up to her. His speed was such that when he saw her sitting in the grove of trees he had no time to stop. What he did instead, was check his speed and fly past her, swiftly turning his head in a smirk. He continued to run a ways, beginning to slow and checking over his shoulder to see if she was following. Hurry up! He called jubilantly to the small fae somewhere behind him.

Stopping to wait for him didn't bring her much of a wait. Soon the male rushed past her, calling tauntingly over his shoulder at her. Feeling her adrenaline rise she lunged after his, gaining speed quickly. Running was always her best event, being small and lithe in shape. dodging trees and rocks she quickly caught up to him, bumping her shoulder into him playfully. "If your feet moved as quickly as your flirty mind I'd have a real test on my hands, come race me." She encouraged, bursting forward ahead of him, inviting the game. Forgetting her formalities and the work to be done she was enjoying herself for the time being. Plus she needed to test out his abilities to see how well he'd do here, yes just keep telling herself that.

Flying ahead the pair soon came to a wide field void of all color but a brownish green. The grass had yet to grow that much here from the high elevation, but the expanse let Chara give her run everything she had. Kicking up her feet she ran until her mind went numb and she felt like she was floating. Knowing nothing was in front of her she closed her eyes for a moment enjoying the feeling of weightlessness and being free.

The brute grinned at her challenge and stepped up his game. Lurching forward he matched her stride for stride. The two ran side by side through the forest and at times he found himself looking down at her as they ran. He kept telling himself that he was just checking she was still there and he was going the right way. But any outsider could see something very different. They charged through the tree line together and were met with a vast expanse of green and brown. The terrain seemed manageable, free of hidden divets and mounds.

Previously, he had run alongside her, not testing his speed as he could have. But now, he let himself go. His legs stretched further with each stride. He powered well ahead of the female and sped his way across the plain. His eyes glazed over as he concentrated internally on his movements, relying on touch, smell and sound rather than his eyes. He knew that the eyes could deceive you and leave you hurt and in pain when they were open. But when closed, they blind you to the world. The first thing he felt was a wet muzzle on the tip of his tail. Then paws scraping at his heels. The brutes head turned to view the threat, but he only caught a glimpse of familiar inky black fae before he was thrown off balance. The two tumbled in the coarse dry grass, head over tail. When they finally stopped, he opened his eyes, for they had closed on instinct, and found himself nose to nose with Lead Warrior Chiara.

Feeling free and blind to the word around her she hardly felt Magnus soar past her, blind as well. Breathing in deeply she let her lungs fill with the warm spring air and her heart pound as she pushed herself to the edge. Sadly the moment wasn't long lived as soon her nose was tickled by the males nose. Cracking an eye open she didn't have enough time to react when he tripped, sending her into a tumble with him in the field. Rolling in the short prickly grass Chiara was covered in dirt and aware of a large weight on top. Opening her eyes her vision was blurred by a set of amber orbs in her face. Unsure of what to do Chiara's mind went to the last time this thing happened, one year ago.

Chiara had been exploring the woods and had tripped on a vine, sending her rolling down an embankment. At the bottom sat a male, minding his own business. Colliding with him Chiara came face to face with the male and instantly recoiled. Chiara stiffened herself and scooted away from his body until her hind bumped into the trunk of a tree. "Sorry, sorry that was my fault I should have been paying more attention. Sorry if I bit you, instinct took over and well it wasn't called for." She said with her head lowered submissively and her ears almost fat back. Her golden eyes stared at his feet and she had no idea what male this even was. He smelled slightly familiar, but the only thing on her mind now was kissing ass lest he decide to charge at her. The male brushed himself off and tried to calm her, but Chiara was cared for his punishment of her. Old memories of submitting to wolves were driven hard into her. Pushing at her comfort he then tried to see her eyes. "Try not to take this forward attitude wrong madam, but may you reveal those gorgeous eyes to me once more? I promise my own eyes will not out burn the fire which lives in them...it is all right really, you can look at me. Do not be afraid." She remembered him saying, his words capturing her into locking gaze with him, after that there was no going back.

Now those same eyes were before her, was it Damon back from the dead. Dazed from the collision Chiara honestly believed her old love to be on her instead on the hunter. "Damon?" She whispered, blinking rapidly and unfortunately resetting her sights. Nope, was just Magnus. Sighing she pushed off of him and roe to a sitting position, shaking out her fur. "Thought you'd have more talent then to crash into me hunter, lets hope bringing down prey is easier for you." She said pushing what she had called him away.

The brute looked down upon the fae, feeling how beautifully soft her fur was against his own. He smiled. She appeared dazed, her concentration elsewhere, so he enjoyed the moment while he could. When she finally spoke, she called him by another name. Damon. He instantly didn't like the familiarity with which she spoke the name. But he brushed those feeling aside. He rolled off her and allowed her to get up as she bit at his ability to run straight.

Excuse me, but I do believe it was you who tumbled into me. He pauses only briefly, not allowing her time enough to reply. Who is Damon? He waits silently for a time and a quiet falls upon them as neither has anything to say. He sits proudly before her, his fur beginning to ripple in the light breeze. His fiery gaze searches her, waiting a reply. Completely oblivious to any pain his question might cause her. He felt the sun upon his back, dancing of the tips of his fur, setting the copper tones alight.

Bringing herself to her feet Chiara started to groom the bits of dirt from her fur. Taking pride in her appearance she licked out dirt and clumps of grass leaving her pelt shiny and void of marking aside from her scared eye. Not caring much about her scars she faced him as he questioned her. "Who's ever fault it was doesn't matter, we have prey to catch." She said as she turned to leave. Looking back over her shoulder the look on his face haunted her. Seeing the confusion on his face when she mistaken him for Damon was bad enough, but as he stood and asked whom she meant she felt her stomach lurch. Her face suddenly felt hot and her feet started to sweat.

At first she felt like snapping at him, that it was none of his business, but she had been the one to make a mistake. "He was a male I used to know, kinda looked like you. Our first meeting involved crashing into each other, I guess in my daze I thought you were him, I apologize." She said hoping that was the end of the conversation, as old memories were already surfacing, taking her off her game.

The brute stood and shook out his fur to free it of most of the grass and dirt. His appearance mattered little to him. In fact, he found it a curse. It even forced an interesting fae to be reminded of a male she once knew and clearly cared for. No, he did not miss the emotion with which she spoke of Damon. But her knew it best to leave difficult matters in the past, so he dropped the subject. He rose and started off again without her, sure she would follow soon enough. As they walked he looked at her, noticing the scar over her eye for the very first time. He found it did not marr her beauty, only proved that she was a real warrior who has fought real battles.

He turned his gaze forward once more, keeping a very straight face, he pondered whether to ask her about. He knew how he might've act should she ask about his scars, but perhaps it was not from such a serious conflict. Perhaps she had been clumsy or overly adventurous as a pup and received the mark in such a way. Soon, curiosity got the better of him and before he could stop it, Where did you get that scar? he blurted the question. Once more he forced his gaze forward and continued to stride confidently to a destination he didn't know. When the silence dragged, he stopped. Chia? May I call you that? You have every right to be mad if I overstepped my bounds. He was being overly formal and soft spoken, as he would with a close friend to whom he'd said something awful to.

Following after him her senses went to that of smelling for prey. Being her first priority she neglected to see the looks he gave her, nor cared. She was used to people staring at her scared face, and at one point she was embarrassed by it. It caused her pain to think back to the night where the first scar of the "X" shape appeared, brought on by rage. Thinking back she remembered the night like it was yesterday.

It was cold, early spring if she was correct. She was about a year or so old, a time that should have been filled with wonder and happiness, instead her every movment was stricken with worry. She couldn't afford to mess up, not under her father's disapproving eyes. He had always wanted sons, not weak girls. Her sister Willow had gone off with hm last week and she hadn't found her since, maybe she escaped from him...Though this one night she couldn't escape him. He came to her den swelling full of anger and something musty. For the past few days she had been acting different, filled with some sort of urge, but didn't know why. Fear fell over her as he came near her, his antics becoming clearer. Refusing him she tried to run then fight, but her actions were met by his swift jaws and a bloody eye, as well as the weight above her.

Sighing as the memory was pushed from her mind she then recalled the second slash, one that was self inflicted. After Damon was killed and her father beheaded and torn apart she remembered looking down at his broken body. Her heart scarred over and she wanted to be free of what little hold he had over her. Not thinking rationally she saw a tree with a broken branch a few feet up to her right. Lunging at it she drove her face into it, making a new scar over her old, now it belonged to her, as did her life. Coming back out of her memories her eyes turned to Magnus, still asking questions. Deciding to be honest with him she spoke quite clearly as if it didn't bother her. "My Father gave me the first and I slashed my own face for the second. As for the name Chia, call me what you like, but nick name or not I expect to have respect from you as I outrank you." She said, continuing to sniff the air. "I'm not mad, but be cautious in these lands you tread, you may not like what you learn of me."

Magnus was chilled by her revelation. A parent attacking a child had been commonplace in his own pack, but he had not expected to meet another wolf who had been in the same position. But what rocked him even more was that the other half of the scar had been self inflicted. He could not fathom how any creature could bring harm to themselves, against all their instincts of survival. Something truly powerful must have driven her that day.

He was glad she had accepted the nickname and thought that of course he would show her the respect she deserved. I'm hurt you would even think that of me. Of course I know when to show respect. As of your past, I have no intention of learning more than you're willing to share. But knowing your past would not make me judge you poorly, nor would it turn me against you, only allow me to understand why you are the person you are. Though, I feel it is often best the past being left where it is. It cannot be changed and does us no good to dwell upon it. He spoke with a note of finality, drawing the conversation to a close before she could become irritated or worse, intrigued by his own past. It was not interesting, nor very upsetting. He just preferred to leave it alone and keep moving forward.

The Hunter raised his muzzle and scented the air, searching for the distinct scent of prey. He found something. Only a hint of it. But somewhere around here was something worth hunting. His ears swivelled and head turned from side to side, trying to locate the source.

Relieved he didn't push her story further about her scar she went back to smelling the air. In the distance she could smell a small herd, but it was small, not worth their time. Trying against a breeze picked up and gave hope to a larger herd south of them. "Come I smell something south of us." She urged starting that way. He cept on talking and she acknowledged his words of the past and how things were. What he said was true for many, but the past made Chiara who she was. Even the bad parts molded who she was today, what would she be without her past? "There are some parts of ones past you can't run from. They remain a part of us like scars, staring back at us in a puddle to remind us of the pain they caused." She said as the fae looked into a puddle and quickly smashed the reflection.

"Your turn, you know quite a bit about me now's your turn." She questioned hoping the conversation turned away from her. Waiting for his reply she continued to walk, drawing closer to the scent as the moor land turned soft with wet lands. Sinking a bit Chiara tried to jump on rocks, but still managed to get mud on her pelt, just great.

He turned his head south and indeed the scent was stronger. With a flick of his tail he was off, setting a brisk trot. She asked of his past and he rolled his eyes. Curiosity was a killer. They slowed when the reached a damp moor. The fae struggled to remain out of the mud, whilst the larger brute had no trouble leaping across the most treacherous spots and onto high solid rocks. He made his way to a large rock near the fae and bent his neck down to her. Grabbing her by her scruff he pulled her onto the rock beside him with a cocky smirk.

He turns to the fae, saying, Well you see, he leaps ahead to another rock. I was raised. Another leap, to his left. In a pack. A leap to the right. Just like this one. He notes that the ground ahead is far firmer and more stable. Bunching his muscles, he made the large distance in one bound, turning back to face the fae in the distance. We prided ourselves on breeding strong wolves. Any weaklings were... Taken care of. I was the son of our Guardian pair. I left because of a disagreement with some of our laws. He left it as plain as that. Changing the subject, he called. Are you coming or will I have to take down the deer by myself? He smirked, his eyes flashing in delight.

Scrambling from rock to rock Chiara soon missed a jump and landed in the muck below. Quite annoyed with herself she was soon grabbed by someone above her and dragged on the rock next to the male. Without enough time to protest being hauled like a pup the male bounded away and talked to speak. Following his words and his steps to dry land Chiara pieced together what he said and grew more curious to what sort of disagreement he was talking about. Coming to land on dry land she stepped up beside him and locked her gaze with him. "Disagreement?" She asked, her tail flicking in the air.

Tasting the air she could scent deer near and even saw some tracks up ahead, they were close. Nodding to him she walked forward, knowing there was a small rise ahead that over looked a valley, the perfect outlook for any prey. As she crept forward her eyes flicked back to him, "Another question, do you have any siblings?" Keeping the question light she figured he'd have no issue answering her, as he intrigued her a bit. Curious as to his past she was even willing to answer the tough questions to learn soemthing about the sable male.

When she made it to dry land, she was quick to look up at him. She wondered as to the disagreement he might have had to make him leave his home land. Yes. A disagreement. His words were sharp and matter off act. He did not let on to the fact that it was his own mother who sparked the issue. Nor the atrocities he had witnessed with each new litter of pups. His previous Alpha had been a sick, twisted brute who was in no mind to be ruling. If he. Had had the chance, Magnus was sure he would have killed him. But then, as the victor, the responsibility would have fallen upon his shoulders. And the way his pack was headed, there wouldn't be much of a pack to lead after long. They would quickly die out and he would have become a loner anyways, with the added disgrace of destroying his pack. He regretted it every day that he didn't stop it, but he took hope that perhaps his strength of will that allowed him to leave might serve courage to those who also had dreams of better things. He agreed with his packs views that a pack was as strong as it's weakest member, and that if you have no weak members you have little to fear. His acquiescence stopped when they began to speak of inbreeding.

Butt he fae had more to say. She asked of his siblings, a dime enough question. He answered with a hard face and strong voice. Siblings? No. I have none that I might call brother or sister by blood. What he neglected to tell her was that he had been the one to end their lives.

At barely six months, so he remembered, he and his pups had been brought before the Alpha for their first true inspection. They had been weaned from their mothers milk and were already given their future ranks and tasked to their masters. All that was left was to be accepted by the Alpha.  Each had already received some basic combat training. They knew enough to kill one of their own. Magnus, of course, was to be made a warrior, trained to take his fathers place as Guardian when he took a mate. His mother loved him most as she saw her other pups were weak. These pups are far too scrawny to become pack. I had expected better from you, Arya. His mother had taken to the dirt, curling her tail beneath her in submission. I apologise for my insolence, Alpha. If my mate were still here I would beg you to allow us a second chance in the coming winter. The Alpha looked the pups over once more and his blood coloured eyes landed on Magnus, unnamed at this point. This pup, however, is fit and healthy. He's is of your brood? I would have him live as your successor. His gaze swept once more over the other unnamed weaklings. You have trained under your mother, pup? Magnus nodded, standing tall and proud as a pup could. Kill the weaklings who taint our bloodlines. They were his first blood. Many pups came after them, during training. He was commanded to kill the students who did not pass their combat training. For in their pack, no one had any business being a wolf of any rank, if they could not fight for their pack when called upon.

The brute returned his attention to the fae and they walked up the rise together. Crouching atop the knoll, he viewed the expanse of the plain before him. A large herd grazed quietly, untroubled by thoughts of their hunters. There were several stags, each surrounded by his group of female mates. The younger bucks, and does who were not yet old enough to mate, stood on the fringes of the herd, close to the tree line. They grazed, the bucks keeping a watchful eye for any hunters lurking about.

His sharp voice would make most wolves turn and stop the conversation, but Chiara wasn't like other wolves. Not caring if she pried or not if his past would have an influence on her pack she would need to know more then a simple "disagreement." Catching up to him she returned his original bump with her hip and gave direct eye contact. "Care to elaborate? I need to know if someone might be hunting you down, I put the safety of the pack above all else." She asked, firmly. With no regard to if she was diving into his dark memories she wanted to see how far she could push him, till he snapped like a twig.

He spoke further of his siblings and his answer sufficed her growing curiosity for now. She had two brothers, if they were still alive. Her one sister had probably been killed by her father on their "outing" some time after her birth, but her brother were spared most of her pup hood horrors. Doted on by her father they soon grew evil like him and fell right into place in her sexist old pack. Following his eye line she saw the herd below and saw a old buck near the out skirts. He probably was hanging around after being kicked off his throne by a young buck, his broken antler proved this. He was decent size, but had a limp, the perfect choice for them. Bringing her gaze to him she motioned to him to see if he agreed with her decision.

She asked for an elaboration of his disagreement, wondering if any might be hunting him. [color:8656=54C741]No. They wouldn't dare come after me. I disagreed with their ways of arranged mating and inbreeding in an attempt to produce a stronger generation than the last. He brooded silently on the abominations he had been surrounded by, glad he had left when he did.

When the fae gestured for him to look across the plains, he saw the old stag she had discovered. He was weak and injured, a perfect target. And he has no use to the earth aside from prey as he could sire no more younglings. He nodded curtly, accepting her chosen quarry. He crawled over the rise and slunk his way down into the long grass. Much closer now, he began to familiarise himself with the scent of Chiara and the sickly stag amidst other distracting scents, that he might be able to place them wherever they were. He waited for the Lead Warrior to join him, remaining low so as not to spook the rest of the herd. When she joined him, he whispered, I will go through the trees and attack him from the back, flushing him out towards you. That is where you will make your attack, as warriors do best. His serious tone could not be mistaken and without another word he snuck away to the trees. Making sure to stay downwind, he flitted through the trees to come out behind the stag. And he waited, wanting to be sure Chiara was in place.

Finally accepting his answer she allowed his words to sink in and she dwelled on them. So he was to be in an arranged marriage? Perhaps another fae caught his eye whom he wasn't suppose to mate? The possibilities were endless and she could sit there all day trying to figure him out, but now there was work to be done. Following his lead she crept into position, ready to kill the old stag. Though he may be old and lame she didn't think for a second he'd be killed easily, she had to keep her head up. Creeping to the destined spot she lay her body low, blending into the short grass and weeds. She could barely see the herd from this angle, hopefully they wouldn't trample her if all went running.

She had hunted deer several times and had faith this time would be no different. Once the stag came her way she try for its throat, a hind flank or its back. Once down the take down would be easy so long as she evaded kicking hooves and its one lone antler. An injury had to be avoided, for what use would she be if injured out here, alone with Magnus? Waiting silently she awaited Magnus to attack the herd.

He was careful, stalking as close as possible until he couldn't possibly move without making a sound that would startle the old stag. Each step so far had been carefully placed. Never crunching a dry leaf, not breaking a branch nor upturning a rock. He stretched his neck out, searching for Chiara. His eyes could not detect her dark form, but his nose told something different. She was right where she needed to be, ready and waiting. He had to make his move while the wind still favoured him.

Bunching his muscles he leapt at the beast, snapping at its hind quarters. He reared and pawed at the air in fright before bounding off in the intended direction. Magnus shot off in pursuit, every so often snapping and snarling at the creature to pen him in to their trap. Though he carefully avoided the harsh hooves and the rocks they kicked up into his face. They ran for so very long, but he was so well conditioned it mattered little. He was so sure this would work.

She could hear the thundering sound before her eyes even saw the pair running at her. Feeling the vibrations below her feet she could smell Magnus and the stag coming straight at her, the beast's hot breath panting as it tried hard to run. Waiting till just the right moment Chiara sprang from her cover about ten feet from the stag, too soon. It saw her and tried hard to evade her but she lunged at it and grabbed on to its flank, securing her hold. Bucking and bellowing at her the beast kicked out, twice catching her shoulder. Feeling heat to the area she figured she was cut, but the pain didn't hit her. The stag headed for the trees, it was there that Chiara kicked off a passing tree and landed on the stag's back that all was done. Her teeth found its neck and loud bellows soon grew slower and quieter. Still bucking the stag stopped running, trying to slam Chiara in the trees. Evading them she twisted her jaws, finding its spine and cracking it in her mouth. Bone and blood filled her mouth and soon the body below her grew limp. Letting go and jumping down she went to its throat, letting the rest of its blood soak the ground.

Pleased with herself she back up a step, watching the life drain from ts eyes. It was only then did the heat start in her shoulder. A burning made her almost wince as she turned to see what was wrong. Two neat slashes, one deeper than the other were visible. Swollen above her skin and leaking blood. It wouldn't cripple her, but infection might lie up up lest she didn't get it treated, damn she so didn't want to get hurt. Mad at the buck she lunged at it, tearing its ears clean off in anger, the damned beast. Spitting at its face she tried desperately to reach her wound, to relieve the burning, though it was just beyond her reach. Cursing under her breath she waited for Magnus to join her and help her drag this back home.

He chased after them in awe, snapping at the beasts ankles in an attempt to bring it down. They ran for the trees and that's where the stag made his mistake. Chiara kicked herself from a tree and secured herself on it's back. He slowed his run, watching in awe of her. He was surprised she wasn't Lead Hunter rather than Lead Warrior. But he supposed in a pack that held no Hunters she would have been forced to learn a few tricks. She felled the dear in next to no time and soon it was limo on the ground with blood pooling around it. She stepped back to admire her work. And he noticed there were two pools of blood.

Without hesitation, Magnus dashed over to her side. What happened? How bad is it? Worry was clear in his voice. He surveyed her shoulder seeing two neat cuts that must have been formed by the stags bucking hooves. He used his paw to push her tail end down. Now this may be difficult for you but I need you to sit still. Worry leaked into his serious tone. He leaned his head forward tentatively, trying to lick the wound clean. Butt he blood kept on coming and he had no healing experience. We have to get you to a healer. He did the best with what he had. He stripped a tree of its moss that covered the base and pulled some long stalks of grass from the ground. Magnus carefully wound the stalks into a makeshift rope and used the moss to pad her shoulder, wadding it to collect the blood and keep out infection. He took the makeshift rope in his maw and carefully moved around her, looping it over her shoulder and under her chest and deftly tying it off as best he could.

Stepping off the stag she was greeted quickly by Magnus, concern leaking from his voice. Looking at her shoulder she saw more blood pooling, perhaps a artery had been cut? Confused he soon bent down and started to lick at her wound, doing what she could not. She enjoyed the feeling of his tongue on her fleash in an odd sense, relieved the itching sensation was gone for now. What he did next astounded her. Wrapping moss and dried grass around her helped most of the blood loss to stop, though a small trickle continued. Examining his work she smiled at him, glad some of the pain was gone. "I'll be fine, its only a scratch. We need to get this back to the pack and then I'll see to my injury, don't worry about me." She said, lying though her teeth. Grabbing the buck by a hind leg she slowly started to drag it, limping a bit and fighting back the urge to wince. She would not appear weak to him.

She was the lead warrior and must remain strong. Fighting through the pain and the slight dizziness she was feeling she managed to drag the stag a ways before Magnus started to help her. At this rate they'd be home before high noon, enough time for her to see a healer. "We make a good team, cept for my mistake, I haven't hunted in a while, perhaps I need some pointers." She said, getting a better grip on the deer. It would be too hard for Magnus to drag the deer and her back to camp, nor would she give him the pleasure. She caught herself from tripping as the blood loss increased, she could feel the swelling growing as well. Cursing the deer she would relish in eating it for injuring her so.

She had waved a way his concerns and he wasn't one to presume ones pain. One thing that irked him was when you were in pain and a healer took it upon themselves to assume your level of pain. If she said she was fine, then she was fine. He picked up the stag by the throat and began to drag it. With the aid of Chiara it was a much lighter load to bear. But he quickly came to notice that every other step, she stumbled and struggled. He knew she was sure footed and had no ailments in her legs, so he surmised that it had to be her injured shoulder affecting her.

When he saw her limp along with the deer, he knew it was far worse than she let on. He ignored her words of protest and so missed her press for further time spent together. The brute jumped in front of the fae, blocking her path, for a plan had formed in his mind. Your in no shape to go around dragging deer carcasses back tot he pack clearing. Now get on this deer and I will drag you both home. I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. His voice was authoritative and commanding, unyielding. He gave her no chance to argue but carefully nudged her towards the deer.