:::not here for my _{confessionals:::}

It didn't take long for Malignus to realize that he was being pursued. Whenever he paused to catch his breath, the crashing sounds of a speeding body would cause him to strike forwards again, terrified. After awhile though, he began to grow tired and his muscles screamed for mercy. Breeding took a lot out of a wolf and he was exhausted, his sides heaving and his tongue lolling from his mouth in a pant. He had to come up with a plan and fast. There was little that could be done to escape – this he knew already – but if he was clever enough he could feign innocence. After all, there had been none on the scene to witness his crime, only the ending of it, for he had fled shortly after their arrival, and had missed being caught in the snapping jaws of the large, ebony female. Even Raven herself had not turned to see him and his pelt, which reeked of thyme, hid his scent well. Veering off the path he had been traveling, he plunged into the Aplos from a grassy bank, leaving no paw-prints in his wake. Chest deep in the icy, winter-kissed waters, he began to splash and plunge until he was sodden. Following this, he rolled in the muddy bottom until algae and dirt clung to every hair, wiping the last traces of plant-odor from his skin. This was how his tracker found him, digging in the river bank, ears pricked as though intent on something hiding in the muck.

Eyes of palest yellow looked up as the snarling beast accosted him, and he hid his fear well, masking its scent with fishy surprise, “Greetings. What's got you in such a state?” Without bothering to answer, the male leaped down beside him and began to herd him along the path back towards Iromar. Malignus growled, expression one of righteous anger as he was nipped at. Now and again he turned his head to reward his captor with flashing knives, but alas he had never been particularly intimidating to his own gender and so it was for show only. He knew his quailing heart and cowardice would grant him but death, so the actor in him was brought forth in bursts of magnificent stage-play designed to cause his assailant doubt, “I demand to know what's going on! You have absolutely no right to detain me! I need an explanation,” and then, “Where are you taking me? What is my crime?” He continued like that, a wronged innocent, until the nameless one drove him across the borders of Iromar, its pungent aroma causing him to slick his ears to his skull.

After moving through the marshland quite a way, a new scent was brought into being and Malignus paused, startled by the deep voice of the one who drove him. At the thought of alligator-teeth ripping through his flesh he felt a grimace twitch at the corners of his dark lips, but he fought his horror and turned to the white one,“I don't know what I've done but I bloody well deserve to hear it! I was nowhere near Iromar when I was hunting that vole, don't tell me you've claimed the entire Aplos as part of your territory now? Maybe that's what that crazy loon I saw before was running from. This is injustice I tell you, injustice!”

It was like slipping on a glove for the wolf, transforming into a guiltless bystander who had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Covered in mud and weeds, his markings were obscured and his odor was muted. If any had happened to see his taking of the dark one from afar, they would not have been able to notice much that wouldn't cause them confusion if they looked upon him at that moment, a different wolf with horror and rage in his face as he stood up for his rights.