Dank and heavy scents of the swampy marsh bring me to the borders this day. Father and Coszcotl have gone to Iromar to tend to a few sick wolves there, and I briefly wonder if it was a ploy for them to send their strongest wolf to the forest for some unknown reason. But the wolf has not crossed over into the pack land, and so I am at ease for the time being. My long and slender legs eat up the earth as always as I move, making my approach fast and swift. Dark violet eyes with an almost black gradient spy the large, dark wolf who smells of the bogs. Unlike Demons, though, she is marked in white and so I know her not to be one. Just as I know their leader, Aithne is no Demon and with the simple stance of the creature she really could be none other but.

Just prior to my arrival, the Iromar female had given a call for the girl that is Siren. The girl that had brought my brothers dead body back to its home, where it belonged, after avenging the very wolf that had killed her. News must have finally reached the swamps that she resided within the forest, and perhaps this was the day they sought to bring her home or simply sought to question her. Either way, Siren was a wolf under Taviora's care and protection, Coszcotl's own as well as myself. I am not so large and brute of strength as our Chief, but I hold skill all the same and all my own. I am fast, and that is key to my ability. The dark wolf before me is large and cannot possibly move like I can, but it will only come down to such if need be. For now, I am peaceful in my demeanor and my approach, brazen voice finding the air between us with as much confidence as my blunt personality has always given me. "Aithne of Iromar, you seek a member of my family this day, little Siren." It is not so much a question as a statement, for I wish to be honest with the leader of Iromar.

We do not hide and conceal within the forests of Taviora. Siren had come to us on her own, sought shelter with us on her own, and we had taken her in and protected her as if she were our very own. Roamin had been ours, and with his death had come the death of one of theirs. Not by a jaw of our own but by Siren, who would eventually come to be our own. So perhaps it was that the forest family had taken their revenge, in the most simplest of manners before we had even knew what occurred. Such thoughts are on the mind, as well as the wondering of how much Aithne herself knew. How much the Iromar wolves knew the fate of their past leaders mate and their daughter. There was one way for me to learn, and there is no hesitation before my voice finds the air once more. "What do you know of Siren's tale?" I focus my gaze intently on her own, noticing the dark shade of emerald that is there and wondering at the intentions within it. Thus far the new leader of Iromar had shown good and well intentions, but wolves did have their ways of fooling others. And I would not be fooled as my brother was- I would never allow another wolf to spill Taviora blood again. Pact or no pact.