Are together in eternity, Romeo and Juliet

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 Crux lay among the leaves, grooming his paws after a successful hunt. He'd already shared his leftovers with pack mates and had left them to it, returning to the heart of the forest to relax. He quite enjoyed it out here. There was always a pile of leaves to rest or hide in and the blue haze of mist that filled the forest reminded him of why he had named the place Bleakwood initially.

 He had just finished gnawing out some fur from between his claws when a voice called from the distance. He lifted his head, lips still lifted up over teeth from his cleaning. The voice was male and strong and for once, it was calling for him.

 Crux made haste towards the voice and was at a quick trot when the brown form of the stranger came into view. He studied him as he came - large and muscular, but with largely unremarkable markings from what he had grown used to. Still, there was something strangely handsome about the dark mask and brilliant red eyes of the stranger. Crux didn't have a type per se, but tall dark and handsome was a definite contender.

 However, this was not a time for flirtation with a stranger. The other had the attitude of a leader, but not in the way of a challenge. It was clear that somewhere out there, this wolf had power and authority. Crux approached and stood, golden eyes meeting red evenly and tail curling up in a confident yet non-aggressive stance that mirrored and intensified the brown stranger's own stance. “Greetings,” he said with a polite blink, “You called?”

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 The stranger immediately introduced himself and Crux accepted it with a polite dip of his head. “Welcome, Warlord Vengeance.” The speckled male noted that while Hydra had two names apparently, Vengeance only provided one. He would have to look into the stories of those with two names eventually. “Ah, I met Queen Hydra not too long ago - it is a pleasure to meet one of her allies.” Instead of assuming which of the two names provided he should use, he gratefully took cue from this newcomer.

 He figured that in the presence of a warlord, it would be prudent to claim a title that might not indicate someone above him in his ranks, “I am Crux, Supreme of Event Horizon.” He would then indicate towards the forest behind him, “and this is Ichorwood, once Bleakwood.” They had, as a pack, decided on the new name and he was slowly getting used to saying that name instead of the one he had given it before. After all, the new name would produce questions that were less condescending and less likely to chip away at his patience.

 He inspected Vengeance's face thoughtfully, considering his immediate assumptions about the stranger. Clearly, he was a strong, capable wolf and evidently had the initiative to seek out other packs. “How may I be of assistance?” He wondered where these Nightwalkers lived and whether Vengeance had come far. He hadn't come across the scent before in his roaming so he didn't believe they were in this part of the Mountains, which he was fine with.

 After all, three's a crowd.

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He doesn't know about Vanderfell Woods yet hehe

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 Why should he leave anything out? For now, he had nothing to hide, save perhaps the makeup of his pack itself. He wasn't so sure he wanted to advertise just how many pups they had, nor the fact that they had an orphaned deer among their numbers. However, this was just common sense, not a need for secrecy. Not like back in the Valley, where any wolf they came across had to be captured or killed if they didn't wish to join their numbers.

 Besides, if Vengeance knew Hydra then perhaps he could pass on the information that the land's name had changed, if she hadn't heard their announcement.

 A woman who demanded high rank and then claimed a pack of her own. How ambitious. He listened with slight worry, which abated quickly when he learned that she wished to create a pack of murderers and bounty hunters. Plus, her coat was the opposite of what he feared. She would never be so stupid as to outright challenge such a powerful wolf and claim for a high rank. She would wait for opportunity.

 It was not his mother.

 And how could it be? She had been left in the world before, likely never to be seen again. He missed her but had moved on. Nevertheless, the actual description rang no bells of familiarity so Crux gave an honest answer, “No. Did she provide a name for either herself or this ... "group" she wishes to form?” It sounded so ill-planned that he didn't quite feel right naming it a pack. A group created solely for the reason of killing? While the wolf before him called himself a Warlord, it was clear that at least he had some more discretion. “I can ask around and tell my wolves to keep an eye out.” It was more than evident that Vengeance would not accept a wolf of such similar standings, especially after the insult she had evidently placed upon the brown male's name.

 Ah, yes. “Does your pack's land have a name that we can relay any information we gather?”

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 No names, no fun. Crux nodded somberly to this, though he felt a tickle of irritation that the ambitious woman hadn't been so dumb as to share her name with her demands. Crux offered his own name freely, but he never attempted to force such a blatant disrespect that would put he or his pack in danger.

 So this was to be a tentative alliance of sorts, perhaps simple peaceful neutrality, for a mutual goal. Crux considered the connotations of being associated with a pack led by a warlord. If a multi-pack war were to occur with powerful groups on either side, where would Event Horizon fall? Neutrality would be ideal, but if there was anything to gain from taking a side then he would do so. He was no stranger to war or to fighting and he knew at least several of his pack were the same.

 Though hesitant for war, they would help where they could.

 He tucked away that information away in his head, taking curious note of the similarities between his land's old name and the territory that this wolf made home. “I will tell my members the same for the Nightwalkers.” The olive branch, returned in kind. “If she happens upon our land, I take it you would like her brought to Blackwood Reach?” Dead or alive?

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 Proof of demise?

 He could do that. He gave a firm nod, pleased that the task was at least that much easier. Trying to travel with a wolf who wished to escape was nigh impossible without doing such horrors as breaking legs, which would only make travel itself that much longer and more arduous.

 “We will let you know of any new information, and we'll bring her head if given the chance.” He pondered back to his crew of wolves, considering which of them might be more willing to assist in such an assassination. Whether if they did come across her, if they should invite her in - always the pack of friendly wolves who wanted to avoid violence - only to poison her meal and blame it on a rotten meal. The thought churned something within him that he pushed aside with a cold blink.

 He knew a wolf who could do it.

 Well, with that business over... “Is there anything else?” Any other requests of this... alliance or pact of neutrality? He could think of possibilities for the future, but with a potential war on approach some of those ideas would be illogical. After all, why would they need newborn pups of split heritage when there was the potential for the parents to die at the jaws of some crazed warmonger?

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 Crux returned the nod silently, following the brown titan's gaze without change of expression. It was clear that Vengeance was itching to leave, so the starry male would not stop him. If there was nothing else to be said, why drag it on?

 Adieu was bid and the monochrome wolf tipped his jaw in farewell, “Safe travels, Warlord Vengeance.” He watched as the other turned and walked off in a straight line the way he had gazed. He watched calmly until the last of the warlord was gone, then turned and headed back, towards the heart of Ichorwood, where he would tell his wolves of the news, leaving out the assassination request but instead instructing them to alert him to any sign of the woman.

 After all, that part of the agreement would need to be handled very carefully. He did not wish his pack to fear his own hand, after all.

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Done!
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