There was no solace in the blinding pain. No comfort in the hopes so sordidly dashed. Where once golden orbs had glimpsed a future, they saw nothing but a red tide of anger and pain that broiled and flowed ceaselessly, pulling at her consciousness and threatening to drown her in the shimmering crimson depths. With a throaty snarl, Jaylah remembered the mock innocence, the sugary-sweet tones laced with unsaid threats, the cocky self-assurance that made the amber female want to rip her adversary’s throat out and watch as she spilled her life-juices into the parched earth. That was the only sight that would give her satisfaction. As she padded along, she watered and fed her hatred for the vulpur, Queens, nurturing the seedling into a fully fledged and chocking vine that withered any pity she might have initially felt towards the chocolate brutale. In her favour, Jaylah had not always been so hard. She could remember the times when she was younger, enjoying the views of strong, testosterone-pumped stags and seeing beauty in the burble of an azure stream or the frosty wisps of cloud that littered the horizon. Then, after she had been attacked by her own best friend Satowra and then savaged by Queens, Jaylah had spurned the feelings of joy and joviality, embracing instead only those feelings that would drive her to the top. The little topaz princess had enthusiastically approached the blood-soaked borders of Malignant, proudly howling out a melodic challenge to the alpha there before heading to Quarrel’s Clearing to await her foe. The ensuing fight had been difficult, landing both wolves with serious injuries and wounded prides. Jaylah still bristled at the thought of how close she’d been, how close to dethroning the chocolate bruja and seizing leadership of the pack. If she had, she would have made history as the youngest, most inexperienced wolf to ever give Queens a run for her money as the skirmish with the ess had been Jaylah’s first battle. Flexing her claws and driving them into the loamy earth, she imagined what she would do if she met ether of the two bitches in a dark copse. The thought helped to drain some of her anger and she continued along her way with renewed vigour and purpose.

For all her brazenness, the adult was weary. She was trotting beneath the sheltering boughs of trees that grew so densely all daylight was shut out. Mist wreathed like so much snow around her belly-fur, loading it with droplets so that she had to shake her pelt out every few pawsteps in order to lighten the yoke she carried. The sound of birdsong was muted, if not non-existent, and the eerie silence that rose up around her was as stirring as it was frightening. However, Jaylah had little time to feel such mediocre sentiments as fear or apprehension past the pain that blinded her with every step she took. The wound on her back was deep and terrible and had only just healed enough so that the ivory smudge of her spine was no longer visible. She had doctored it with special attention to detail, diligently scouring it of every grain of dirt and, as a result of her perseverance, had just managed to avoid infection. Then, after a week or two of healing, she had declared herself well enough to travel, though she herself wondered if she would live to regret that decision. However, her other various abrasions had healed well and she had no other troubles except for a slight limp which, yet again, arose from the wound on her spine. Without warning, a rogue wind tore through the forest, racking branches together and carrying with it both the scents and sounds of many wolves.
Good, so she was getting close.

Stretching her forelegs before her eagerly, she picked up her pace a notch so that she was trotting slowly and smoothly, her banner held at half-mast as she struggled with the effort of keeping up the gentle tempo. As she went on, the trees around her grew taller and more foreboding, warning her back with spindly fingers that nagged in her silky pelt and scratched her until she bled afresh. As the air around her grew darker, smouldering ocula’s grew brighter until they shone with an unquenchable light that would make her visible from miles around. Jaylah only hoped that her beacons would be able to light the way out of the strange twist of ebony tree trunks and spiny brambles that up the labyrinth of Munashii Gekko. It was with relief when the fea finally arrived at the scent markers which she preceded to inspect thoroughly. She picked up the various aroma’s of numerous wolves, but she overlooked each until she finally found the one for which she sought. So, they had not lied. Jaylah raised her muzzle again and moved a few fox-lengths from the border, raising her muzzle defiantly but keeping her gaze fixated into the distance. She was not there to join the ranks of the damned and she was not there to challenge its alphas either, so she tried to keep up a front that accurately portrayed her neutral motives. Wrapping her banner around her paws and squaring her shoulders, she waited, confident that her perfume would blow through the territory quickly. She only hoped that the one to meet her was the one she required, the brujo that had been named King Kong.