Striker had returned yet again, this time accepting a challenge as he had the last time. He had not sought out Aindreas either time, instead being content to arrive in time to meet the contester and leave. The only signs of his presence, the only hint that he had been within the pack, was his scent near the border, the first fresh scent that had been laid on the boundaries in a long while. Aindreas had heard the call, but had been too tangled up in his pups to remove himself from their sleeping bodies. And as terrible as it was, he was not sure if he would have responded anyway. It seemed that loneliness was a constant in his life, and just as Serris had become absent when Aindreas belonged to Munashii Gekko, Striker was following suit. Aindreas could understand reasons for being absent for long periods of time, for sure, depending on personal matters, or being off on tasks to further the membership or alliances of the pack. But Striker had given no inclination as to where he was going, when he was going to be back, or what was to be done in his absence. Shae - the vixen who has so irritated Aindreas with her incessant coming and going - had called for Striker and had eventually left, giving up on hearing back from him. Kalgalath had done much the same thing - calling to catch up and discuss the finesses of their alliance, but instead had had to settle for time with his son instead.

And now? Now Striker was back, but only to battle yet another wolf. Would he remain? Would he win? The first fight had been dropped, the contender yielding. If he lost, Aindreas would probably pick up his pups and leave, either to return to his father's pack or to another within the confines of Blossom Forest. Even if Striker returned, Aindreas was no longer sure it was the safe place that it once was, and with his pups to care for, he needed to think about what would be best for both of them. In any case, the ivoro would soon be making a trip to Malignant to see his son - he had heard nothing from Hocus Pocus in a long while, and was worried about how Drizzt was getting on. If Hocus was, indeed, absent, Aindreas would be taking his son, and completing their family.

And then, of course, the femme from the river crossed his mind. She had said that she had recently taken over Spring Grounds... And the brute had made a fool of himself when finally he had gone to see her. Normally, Aindreas was a thinker, fully evaluating everything before responding to any situation. But instead he had charged in willy nilly, making assumptions and letting emotions that he hardly realized rule his mind. Hellene had called him out on all of it and had later reprimanded him, making fun of him for a long while. Aindreas had wanted to run out of there right quickly, but had been unable to move away from the wolves of Aurora Borealis until he split from them, heading toward Moondown Shadows and his pups. But now here he was, wandering, be it out of a sense of misfortune or discontent, he wasn’t sure, and so he had no sense of his direction at all… that is until he heart a scream. For a minute he thought it was the death call of prey, but soon after words followed, calling out of pain, needing help. Aindreas took off, his daggers digging into the soil, leaving deep prints in the mud. He ran as quickly as he could, galloping off. The noise got louder and louder until finally a site that he never thought would cross his gaze came before him. An ess covered in cuts and blood was being ridden by a brute, her crimsons pouring out of his mouth as he grasped her scruff. And then a glint of white gleamed off of her chest and he immediately knew who the ess was. “Losa?” Aindreas had paused long enough to comprehend what he was seeing, but now he was running once more, a grumbling in his chest. His muscles tensed and then released as he leapt off, pushing from the ground his maw agape. Teeth tore flesh as he grasped onto the titan’s nape, and Aindreas’ pure weight pulling the brute off of the fae.

Draven was taken by shock and thus had no time to react, and Aindreas immediately started to scrape his hind limbs down the brute’s back, deep graves being carved in his flesh.Draven soon after began to roll, and after gritting his teeth yanked away from Aindreas, skin being torn as he did so. He roared but rolled over, starting to right himself even as Aindreas did as well. ‘Are you her boyfriend then, boy?’ Aindreas wasted no time with words, instead rushing at him again. Aindreas leapt at his ribs and Draven roared, his teeth cutting down on Aindreas’s nape, trying to pull the brute off of him, and Aindreas complied, letting loose of his grip so that he could regrasp onto a front limb. Draven ceased his laughing and mocking and roared in pain. Aindreas shook his head viciously and though bone didn’t break, vessels and ligaments and tendons were torn. First the dark one clawed at the top of the ivoro’s head, canines dragging deep marks down either side of Aindreas’ right orb, but when that didn’t work right away, Draven leaned into Aindreas’ grip and knocked the white titan over, his teeth leaning down to graze Aindreas’ abdomen, tearing into the tender flesh there, two layers of muscle torn away, just a single one protecting his fragile intestines from being spilt. Aindreas brought his hind paws up and felt claws scrape against the brute’s skull, and though Draven’s teeth tore more flesh, his grip released. Blood began to pour over Draven’s orbs, masking his vision. Aindreas took the opportunity to lean up, his stomach screaming in protest as he tensed his abdominals, and clasped his teeth around Draven’s mandible, his top canines digging into the sweet flesh that was lain between the two sides of his jaw, and then jerked his head down, Draven’s head thrown down until it landed upon the boulder that was above Aindreas’ head. The dark brute went still - unconscious, but still alive.

Aindreas stood and moved til he was beside the fallen fae. A soft whimper came from his chest, both out of pity for her and his own pain. “Losa… you’re alright now.” Blood seeped from him - from his face, from his nape, from his abdomen, forming small puddles beneath him, but aside from the huffing of his ribs, he appeared as calm as could be. He did not near her, wanting to give her space, but merely stood near her, waiting for her to speak.