Lost in a shroud of fathomless inky darkness, a pathetic mound of multi-toned pelt lay isolated in the centre of a swirl of mist. Everything was confusing, banging against the mind until all that was left was a kind of caustic mayhem building itself into a crescendo only amplified by the lack of sound. The ess felt her chest rise and fall rapidly as fear struggled to seize her in its chokehold. With every breath, her hackles rose like soldiers at attention and her audits sleeked against her skull. The claustrophobic wolf swore that she could sense the land around her drawing nearer, squeezing every ounce of oxygen from her lungs. So caught up was she in the eddying pull of her turbulent thoughts, that she failed to notice the approach of another canid until it was almost upon her. For a brief instant, she was filled with relief and she leapt to playful paws in puppyish abandon, her banner swinging like a bullwhip. She turned her golden orbs upon him, wishing to commit the form of her savior to memory. The innocent lass was taken aback by the translucent ebony brute that twisted lithely through the artificial midnight, the mist hanging about him in wreaths. He struck an altogether magnificent and formidable presence and Ladyhawke found herself awestruck before she noticed his dominant stance and brows arched in severe distaste. Dropping to her stomach, she flipped 180 degrees onto her spine, wincing as the damp ground oozed onto her skin. Throwing back her svelte pate, she presented to the stag her vulnerable throat in an effort to at least do something vaguely orthodox in the strange packlands. Wagging her flag feebly between her hind pillars, she parted her jowls to speak, only to be stopped in her tracks by the gruff voice of the brujo. Feeling sheepish and a little scared, the femme spun herself the right way up and got to her paws where she proceeded to shake herself in an effort to dislodge the mud now clumping her tresses together. At any other time, the girl would have taken the chance to show off her bravado but, given the circumstances she was in, Ladyhawke decided that any pompous showing off would get her killed and so retained her subdominant stance. Ensuring that her cap was lowered and her audits flat against her hazel head-fur, the vixen spoke, her tones feminine and polite,

“I am Hawk. I implore you to forgive me for my seemingly blatant disregard of pack authority. I was investigating the forest when a harsh noise startled me. Like a pup, I raced away from the danger, stumbling across your boundaries without noticing, so blindly panicked was I. Only after I came to a halt, did I realize it was too late to turn back. This is why you have stumbled upon my lost female chassi in the heart of your territory,”

Her voice humble, Ladyhawke allowed her words to sink in before the bluster of youth insisted she add something else to the tail-end of her tale,

“I suppose it is presumptuous of me to assume that I would be accepted into your unnamed pack after my unforgivable blunder? I was searching for a pack where I could prove myself as a warrior,”

Ladyhawke knew that she had to be cautious as she was traversing deeply dangerous waters. However, her irresponsible words had triggered a rush of confidence that caused the femme to puff out her chest and stand as tall as she could while retaining her subordinate posture. The girl was far from supercilious, however, she did not wish to be viewed as a weakling in front of the obvious warrior and she knew that the time for leaving a lasting impression had come. Casting the brujo a furtive glance from beneath thick eyelashes, the bruja observed that he was an Omega and rather handsome. Not that she allowed herself to think of such immature things while she was staring death in the maw. She could only hope that he’d let her survive the encounter.