A river valley between two mountain ranges. A powerful river flows through rocky terrain, creating strong currents and dangerous rapids. Precious gold ore can be found in the river for those brave enough. The forests surrounding abound with life.
Since the impromptu visit from Duskorna’s leader, Quinnat had been stepping up his patrols, in duration and intensity. The feather-clad wolf had started trying to hone his athletic skills, pushing his body in an effort to be ready. Because trouble wouldn’t stay far away forever; not with their immediate neighbours wanting to push their luck.
When Quinn had joined Verdantis - not so long ago, but by Ohr it felt like a lifetime - he’d seen it more as a refuge than a home. From the dark place the scout had been in then, the teachings of Ohr had glowed like a beacon. He’d never been devout in his life - but he’d arrived in Verdantis utterly purposeless, and keeping that beacon in sight had given him some direction.
Then, taking up the trade of sentry, Quinnat had become familiar with the land Verdantis laid claim to. That was when it had started to feel like home. He loved the roots of the place.
Borders and homes couldn’t be protected alone, though, and while Quinn had been more reclusive early on, he was making an effort to interact with his pack mates now. The trespassing incident had brought the need for Verdantis to work together into sharp relief for Quinn. Had they been more prepared, would Enya have made it past the borders? Had they been more organised, would she have been able to catch them out with her magic? And had Quinn himself been more proactive in getting to know the creatures who called Verdantis home, would Shifty ever been lured in by the Duskorna Monarch in the first place?
Quinnat wanted to talk to Urna, too - to explain why he’d given the order he had, but it was Gabriel’s scent he found first as he jogged towards Whitewater. The din of the rapids was crescendoing; he hoped the scent trail didn’t get lost in the rough waters.
“Gabriel?” he called out, his voice loud and clear but warm.
Instead of choosing to talk to Quinnat immediately that day, he had chose to follow Enya and Shifty's trail out of Verdantis after they had left, marking over where they'd stepped paw out of their territory and then going the extra mile by patrolling the general area of that border for a while yet. It wasn't enough for the wolf, however; he had also taken some time to look for common herbs. Things that could help staunch bleeding, reduce inflammation, and numb pain. By the time he had finished his patrol and collected enough, the moon had fully risen in the sky, and only then did he call in for the night.
Now, after a good night's sleep, Gabriel had been in the area, digging out a wider entrance to his den in the earth when he heard Quinnat's call. It filled him with anticipation - he had been meaning to talk to the Noble ever since yesterday's fiasco. Halting his progress, the large wolf would make his way to the source of the call, sending out a loud wuff in answer. His form would come into view through the trees, low hanging branches and tall ferns parting to reveal his presence.
Before he speaks, he bows his head in his usual customary greeting, "I'm glad you sought me out. I've been meaning to speak with you about yesterday's event," but, he would not go farther, giving the Noble time to speak his mind first, just in case Quinnat had something else on his mind.
It wasn’t long before a bark sounded in response. Quinn drew himself up to his full height, his ears pricked forward and one paw hovering just off the ground. He wasn’t sure if the ferns actually parted before the massive man - had he been quite that towering when they’d faced Shifty and Enya? - but Quinn wouldn’t have been surprised. If he’d been a fern he would’ve folded himself in half to avoid being stepped on. But Quinnat was not a fern; he was a wolf, evidently one who had trouble living a quiet life, hence the conversation he wanted to have with Gabriel today.
He bobbed his head and offered a grim smile when the steel-horned Sentry had fully emerged. “Have you grown?!” the smaller wolf jested. Then his features grew serious.
“Likewise,” Quinn murmured, unsurprised that the other sentry wanted to discuss the trespassing incident. “I’ve been patrolling - haven’t seen anything else.” His tail swayed slowly but it stopped with what he said next: “I don’t think we’ve seen the last of them. Not by a long shot.” Quinn’s brow, usually lifted in excitement or curiosity, was fixed low in a frown. “We weren’t prepared yesterday.” His colourful feathers rustled. “I want it to be different next time. You want that too, right?”
The comment about his growth causes his tails to wag for a moment. Even though it was just a joke, he decided to answer anyway, "yes, actually. I used to be normal volf size bevore I came here," as he spoke, his ears would move this way and that, listening out for the sounds of anyone or anything else.
He otherwise listened intently as the Noble spoke, and would nod agreeing at the words spoken, "ze im-pli-cay-tions ov such an event are vorth considering. It vould be different if any commoner ov Duskorna had done it, but ze monarch herself did. She vill certainly spread vord to ze others of ze day - likely to spin it in her favor, use it as fuel to paint us as ze proper enemy," he would pause for a moment, giving Quinnat time to add his comments, "how much of her story do you zink is credible? Do you zink Shifty vas vorking vith her ze entire time? What does he know of Duskorna?" even as he asks these questions, he goes through possible scenarios to try and answer them. As far as he knows, Shifty was not a member of Verdantis for long - and unless he pried, he likely only knew territory layout and perhaps the names of those of rank, the number of members, maybe even den locations. It made him feel irritable, his own brows creasing at the thought. Perhaps the leak of information was inevitable; he just wished it didn't happen so soon.
Following the altercation at the river, Urna had stalked away from her packmates, sending low branches whipping behind her. She'd kept her distance since then, not trusting her tongue. To pass the night, she'd dug a stubborn little scrape in the ground (less a den and more a hollow to rest her body), and hunted alone in the morning.
There was only so long she could play the part of sulking adolescent, though, especially if she wanted to ensure the security of the borders here. So the day saw her tracking down Gabriel's trail; she hesitated a moment when she scented Quinnat as well, but forged on ahead. Her ears caught the faint strains of conversation, and her mouth tightened grimly. They were discussing the intrusion.
"I doubt we can trust a single word she said," Urna offered as she emerged from the brush and shook out her fur. "She was just looking out for her her own—" She cut herself off as a specific memory rose to the top of her recollection. Enya, throwing herself at Gabriel and yelling for Shifty to run. Urna shook it off. "She was just trying to make us doubt ourselves enough to let her get away." The anger she'd smothered earlier reignited in her chest. "Speaking of which." She fixed Quinnat with a steady stare.
