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Username: Rinial Sisterdragon
Soquili's Name: Ivaticus Devlitica (Pronounced: Ih-vaht-ih-kous Dehv-liht-ihkah)
Personality: Iva to those who call her friend, is a good hunter and sweet. She's not sugary, but kindeness runs in her veins and she believes in traditions of the hunter, respecting prey and never devouring without thought.
Backstory: Ivaticus grew up to be the lead hunter, and most trusted warrior of her clan. Her clan is a mix of purewalkers (Charmed from birth) and pawed mutants, though they accept all who would live by the rule of the hunt. She has always had a sour face, which has lead to many misconceptions about who she is, and how she is. Still she is a hunter and a good one for her clan.

Username: lysia_nyteblade
Soquili's Name: Brom Covaxxirus (Pronounced: Brohm Ko-vacs-ihr-ous)
Personality: If asshattery had a face, that face would be Brom's. Brom is conniving, devilishly charming, and absolutely jealous of Ivaticus. He is clever and manipulative and looks to make himself the hero of any story.
Backstory:Brom saw himself as the end all be all because his mother said he was. So when he failed his coming of age trial to become what he longed to be most, a hunter, and was passed over for being a full adult by his pack sibling, Ivaticus. A lowly, ugly little purewalker who wasn't nearly as capable as he was. At least in his mind she wasn't. Jealousy grew, and he found himself a self proclaimed enemy of Ivaticus.

Username: Leena-chan
Soquili's Name: Errilia Sombrancis (Pronounced: Air-eel-eeya Sohm-brahn-sis
Personality: A ball of anxiety and fear against purewalkers, Errilia desires to be strong, but because she is so fearful she can find herself terrorized by others and their stories.
Backstory: Errilia lost her twin brother to an evil purewalker, and watched him be devoured in front of her, the walker delighting in her terror as she ran away. To this day she is fearful of walkers, and has never run into one that wasn't absolutely nasty.

The pale furred doe carefully trod into the clearing. A sharp noise cut through the air, pain, blood, fear. all sprang to the doe's senses, she heard a fearsome voice, "What?" Saw the creature bearing spears and a face made of terror. Turning as fast as she could, the doe bolted, pain shooting through her but the fear keeping it from taking her down. A gray male chided and jogged after the wounded doe. Soon finding her hiding in the underbrush, tears falling as he came close to calm her, gentle eyes she recognized, happily accepting the help he offered.

Errilia cried in pain as Brom worked to bandage her wounds. The doe had thought she was a goner for sure. She'd been caught by a sharp weapon, and the pain in her legs was unbearable. It wasn't like she had intended to be caught by the monster. Brom had sworn it was safe. He'd been so polite, so kind and now he was having to help her, and they were being tracked by a purewalker who looked like every nightmare the poor creature had seen.

"Are we safe?"

"For now." Brom was elated, though outwardly he looked as the concerned knight should. Everything was going according to plan. Errilia had sought out food on the hunting grounds and in her eagerness to enjoy plump ripe fruit she'd gotten in the way of the hunters. Specifically she'd been hurt by the purewalker that he desired to bring low. Iva would find herself the mark of ridicule and shame. Hunting was never to harm others, it was to bring home food. And this little doe had been a guest of his. He would smear that pelt with every word of shame he could. Errilia would serve to get Iva banished, disowned, and then he would be able to assume his rightful place as the hunter elite of the clan. There was no doubt in his mind as he worked to bind Errilia's wounds.

-elsewhere-

Ivaticus paced back and forth, heart heavy with the weight of knowledge that she'd missed her mark and injured a poor doe. The pale colored female had run off with an arrow still in her leg when Iva had moved to try and help the poor creature, Brom had shoved her out of the way to give chase, You're scaring the poor thing. Monster. the words he'd spoken to her as he jogged off to catch up to the wounded doe now echoed in the wolf's head. Did the little doe view her as a monster? She had a very stern face of course, but....she was not....a monster. Iva took a deep breath, no thought to what the elders might say, what forces might cause her to fall from the grace of her tribe. She had done a wrong, and now she needed to make it right. Without a word she left her home, a mission on her mind to find the doe she'd harmed and take the healing herbs she knew would help with the wound she'd inflicted on her. Even Brom, a brother to her, would not keep her from making this right.

A brother redeemed, a sister given to awkward fondness of a timid doe. Their worlds were not the same, after the wolf made the doe lame.

Brom will find hardship in his jealousy of Ivaticus and her talents, being caught by his own silver tongue in the end, finding that his only ally is the one he fought so hard against, Ivaticus.

Ivaticus will prove to Errilia that she is no danger to the doe. In fact she is the one who will protect her from Brom's wrath.

Errilia will find a friend, and partner in Ivaticus, and a strength she never knew she had in her adventures as they go.

Username: DarkenWoodWolf
Soquili's Name: Kallan
Personality: Kallan is a patient thing. Or at least, she has come to be in the time since her freedom was taken from her. The battle and subsequent capture fed fury into her veins, keeping her warm and ready in the dank and cold cell they kept her in. It had not been a good day for her. She'd stopped raging against them, turning silent and sullen for a time, before going slightly mad. Sweetly mad. Her smile was bright and it might even seem sincere, for all she would tear the face off of anyone she got the chance too. Still, it was something that she practiced, pretending to be sweet. To be cowed. She would kill them all one day, when she had the chance. All it would take was a little bit of patience, waiting for them to make their mistake. And she would kill all of them. It would be fun. Kallan would take the time to enjoy herself, the time to make them suffer. She was patient, and they would make their mistake eventually.
Backstory: One day, she was born. Kallan was always special, though that wasn't her name then. Her childhood was all playing and fun. Or what a Skinwalker would consider as such. It was a trail of bodies and blood behind her, and she had no care in the world. Kallan adapted herself to different weapons, finding what worked best for her as she carved her way through to adulthood. She was never bested. Until she was. Of all the things she'd faced, it was not a simple herd that worried her. She should have known betteer. The first time she lost did not end in death, as she had hoped. There had been another pawed one there, one who helped take her down. She didn't know the name, but she would forget the stallion and his floofy tail. It was impossible that one such as he should have taken her down. Upon waking again, in surprise, in dismay, to find herself in a cell, contained. Trapped. Captured. At first, Kallan raged, refused to accept what they called her, refused to be their pet killer. After some time, and so many failed attempts at killing her captors, she allowed herself to change how she behaved toward them. And now? Now they were standing tall, telling her she would be hunting someone for them. The reasons didn't matter. Kallan, as she was now, could see they had held onto her weapons. They held her freedom in exchange. How could she say no?

Username: HoneyTeaTree
Soquili's Name: Cú Chulainn
Personality: Cú Chulainn doesn't shy away from conflict if it exists, preferring to face it swiftly and head-on. He believes in protecting the weak and those that cannot protect themselves and Cú Chulainn knows that he must do so because he was given the skills and tools to be able to. He uses his claws and bulky frame to shelter and guard the souls that require his aid and he does so without asking for anything in return. He does not seek glory or fame with his actions and only does so in good-faith that those he protects will try to return the favor in their own way, somewhere down the line, to another soul in need. Due to his caring nature, Cú Chulainn has always been one to catch the attention of others, and the addition of his good looks and charming personality have certainly added to the number of eyes he's attracted. He's a gentleman in all he does and chivalrous to boot. The stallion has always been a romantic, believing in true love and love at first sight, but he's always been careful with his heart, not wanting to carelessly give it away, and saves it for his one-and-only. Cú Chulainn also has rather nontraditional views when it comes to the world and romance when compared to his fellow sidhe fae. He doesn't consider himself better than those that don't belong to the sidhe fae, and believes himself equal with all life.
Backstory: Cú Chulainn comes from a clan of Sidhe Fae, tucked away deep in the forests of the Kawani lands. He was a noble warrior for his clan, following the orders of the Fae elders, going off to fight and protect their interests without question. Cú served his people with pride, a true model of character and loyalty to the other warriors in his clan. He played a part in capturing the walker mare, Kallan, and was celebrated for his cunning and valor. Though he played the part of a perfect warrior for his herd, the stallion had always had a different school of thought when it came to their supposed "superiority." The herd believed themselves better than those that lacked paws, superior to those that wore the pelts of past kills; they were smarter, more physically fit, truly perfect creatures in every way. Cú saw intelligence and unique strength in those that differed from his herd's standards. The stallion encountered a lovely mare, and he watched her from a distance, curious as to who she was. He knew deep in his heart, that she was the one he had been longing for all his life. He grew emboldened over time, leaving gifts for her. Finally, Chulainn came face to face with Bláthnaid, whom had captured his heart, and he wanted nothing more than to spend his days in her company. Their friendship blossomed quickly in to something tender, and he vowed to protect her to the end of his days.

Username: xKOVAKtheWOLFx
Soquili's Name: Bláthnaid
Personality: Bláthnaid is one of character. She is one who stands for what she believes in and will fight for her honor through words. She is a peacekeeper, and does not have a liking towards physical conflicts. With her small, petite build, Bláthnaid feels more attuned with nature and creatures than that of the soquili she has gotten to know.
Backstory:Bláthnaid was not always her name. As a foal, she was simply Aoife. She did not know of other soquili, other than her mother, who was also a wanderer, so she believed they were the only two in the world. With this, Aoife was always socializing with the deer and rabbits that surrounded her home.

One day, Aoife’s mother told her that danger was nearby. Aoife was not a physical fighter, but a verbal one, so she was going to negotiate with the danger and see if they had to leave home or not. Little did she know, but she saw a creature which looked like her. Same build, but with a tail? And paws for feet? He looked like a wolf, but she was not sure what he was. But he looked interesting, and she started to notice him more often as the days passed. As the days passed, he would always return to the same spot to accept her simple gifts of flowers.

Her mother soon passed, and Aoife was lost. She ran to her safe spot - where she left the flowers daily - and she met him. He was flawless. She was scared, not knowing the feeling of love. But she knew that she loved him.
He called her Bláth, and she took on the name Bláthnaid. Little did she know of his kind’s culture. Little did she know the pair’s hardships in the near future.

The Elders had discovered Cú Chulainn's relationship with the hoofed mare and they had brought the both of them before the council. They were furious and lamented over Chulainn's betrayal to his clan. It was inconceivable to them as to why he had fallen for the mare. They believed him bewitched, controlled by the temptress' magicks. The elders had questioned them both endlessly, trying to trick the pair in to saying what the council wished to hear, rather than the truth of the situation. They were unwilling to accept the union between Chulainn and Bláthnaid. It was grotesque, it was an insult to the Sidhe Fae, and surely their most noble and picturesque warrior had been wrongly tricked in to the relationship. Their betrayal only further deepened as Chulainn stood by Bláthnaid's side, shielding her from the piercing gazes of the Sidhe Elders, reassuring her that he would let nothing happen to her. The Elders cried out in rage, consumed by their fury, and the council was filled with growing murmurs of disgust, disapproval, and loud demands to punish the pair that had broken the Sidhe way of life.

Cú had been aware that his love for Bláthnaid was taboo according to his clan, but he had disregarded the old tradition. He knew what he and Bláthnaid shared was pure, and Cú was willing to go to any length to prove such to the Elders in order to protect their lives and their love. The stallion knew the lengths to which the Elders would go to provide them a lesson, he was well aware of the terrible punishments the council would dole out to serve as a lesson to the rest of the clan. Many had lost their lives trying to defend themselves. Those that were accused of betraying the Sidhe traditions were given the worst punishments, pitted against their ultimate weapon, Kallan. The Elders took great joy in seeing the cur they had supposedly tamed unleashed upon the enemies of the clan. The walker was naturally blood thirsty, but she was fueled by the promise of freedom if she served her masters to their contentment, and it only made her all the more deadly. Cú knew that the only chance he and Bláthnaid had at survival was to make a deal of their own with the council. The Elders of the Sidhe had always been partial to making elaborate contracts that would only benefit them in the end. Chulainn hoped to use that to his and Bláthnaid's favor and play the council like a fiddle.

The fact that the council had decided to capture a walker had always been a point of apprehension for Chulainn. Yes the walker would be contained in a sturdy cell, only to be brought out when the Elders wished to make a murderous game of the severe punishments they sentenced criminals to, but that did little to appease the worry that ate at him. The Sidhe knew walkers to be cold and brutal killers, though they believed them to be nothing but mindless savages, but Cú had known better. He had seen Kallan in action, he had witnessed her tear through his fellow warriors; the brothers he had gone to countless battles with, gone in an instant. She was more dangerous than the Elders gave her credit for and that was a mistake. Cú had heard of mysterious charms that could be placed on a walker, "curing" them of the Bloodmadness that consumed them. It was a necessary precaution. If the Elders grew too prideful, too arrogant, and made a terrible mistake that could lead to the death of the clan, Chulainn was at the ready. He had acquired it in secret, a gift he had asked of Bláthnaid with little context, not wanting to worry her with the thought of a skinwalker. He had vowed to protect her, and he would do everything in his power to do so. It seemed that the opportunity to utilize the charm was drawing ever near.

Chulainn stood before the council, stance firm and unyielding to the scrutinizing eyes of the Elders. He held his head high, tall and proud, unwilling to let them instill a sense of fear on his heart. He knew that he was just an righteous in the matter. Cú loved Bláthnaid and there was no crime in that. So he posed to the council a deal: he and Bláthnaid would submit to whatever trial the council wished and, should he and his love survive after a full day's time, the council was to leave them in peace, and he and the mare would leave the Sidhe's territory, never to return. Gleeful whispers rose among the members of the council, eager to put Cú in his place. They included an addendum that, should the vile temptress that had ruined him be the first to be slain, Chulainn would be trained and molded in to a mindless dog, just as they had done with Kallan.

Bláthnaid and Chulainn were sent to the deepest part of the woods, the trial grounds for those that broke Sidhe law, and The Hunt began. There was no telling where Kallan would come from, when she would find them, but it was inevitable. The Council had spurred her with the promise of her freedom and she was determined to finally exact her revenge on the stallion responsible for the shackles she had been placed in.

The first shots had come out of seemingly nowhere, both hitting Bláthnaid. She was too frail a creature to go on with such injuries for long, and Chulainn refused to leave her behind. With the charm sitting in his mouth, he waited for his chance, guarding his love with his life. They would come out alive. Eventually the air stirred, Kallan going for the kill; Cú was faster. The charm left his mouth, landing on the walker, and Kallan writhed in pain. He had bought them time, and he had another deal to make.

Username: Nyx Queen of Darkness
Soquili's Name: Maeve
Personality: There is one thing that Maeve cares about above all others - her roses. She has cultivated a whole field of them, making sure they get the proper nutrients (bodies from her hunting) as fertilizers. She is completely obsessed with her roses, to the point that she typically only hunts within the borders of her territory, refusing to leave her flowers in solitude. However, when that mare took her roses, it unleashed a level of wrath that Maeve had not yet exhibited. She is eager to make the mare and anyone who gets in her way pay for the theft of her roses.

Along with her obsession about her roses, Maeve feels compelled to count things. She also has rituals about planting, harvest season, and feeding her roses.

Backstory: Maeve, like most walkers, lives a solitary existence. Her one great obsession is her roses. From the moment she popped from her abandoned basket until now. she has been obsessed. She knows nothing of social interactions or kindness. She is extremely territorial about her garden area, often not leaving, in case someone should invade. Without exception, she has killed every soquili who has trespassed into her garden and has used their bodies as fertilizers to make her garden grow. That is... until now.

Username: Mahogany Sunset
Soquili's Name: Fionn
Personality: Stern with deeply-held morals, Fionn is often described by strangers as stoic. Those who are more familiar with him describe him as soft and gentle, but as a stallion with conviction and honor. He holds to his own code, though - one that is, at times, questionable to an outsider. He believes that all things belong to their original owners, for example, even once sold. This includes his deep connection to his family; he was formed by them, and so he belongs to them. He believes that religion is the corruption of the soul and must be cleansed. He believes that nature rules all, and impulses are meant to be followed - as long as they keep with the code. This code of his has yet to lead him astray and has, in fact, led him to some of his greatest triumphs - like losing his heart to his beloved. (He doesn't even care, in this case, that it belonged to him first.)

Backstory: Fionn is the youngest son of a lord and thus, has never been entitled to much. If his father were not more attached to him, Fionn might be expected to live and die by his claws as a soldier. Instead, because of his quiet, noble demeanor, Fionn was brought to court by his father. Despite power struggles with his brothers - of whom there are six - Fionn did his best to settle in. He misses the days of being home on the family farm, of being able to wrestle his brothers in the field, of watching his two younger sisters prance around the orchard. He yearns for his nostalgic feeling of family, but he settles for the quiet moments he is able to sneak in with each of them. Up until he meets Ilyia, Fionn's life is rather ordinary.

Username: Lady Argentum Draconis
Soquili's Name: Ilyia
Personality: Raised to be a dutiful and responsible lady, Ilyia can play the part if she has to but, in all honesty, has a brash streak a mile wide, which can sometimes lead her into trouble: she often leaps before she looks and was often chastized as a filly for reckless and unlady-like behavior. She's learned to curb this tendency, mostly.

She herself does not completely follow her love's moral and ethical code but does her best to be understanding even when she finds it restricting or confusing.

Ilyia is friendly enough but often finds it difficult to communicate with others, as she lacks a voice of her own, so prefers the quiet of less populated areas. She and Fionn have their own language, as it were, and he, for the most part, always seems to know what she's thinking or at least trying to say.

Backstory: Despite being the younger daughter of the duke and duchess and niece of the queen, Ilyia was considered undesirable, as she was born mute - only capable of making the smallest of sounds. She was labelled as the "broken one" behind her back and, in her parents' opinion, in need of extra coddling and protection. She soon came to resent this treatment and learned how to extend the silence of her voice to the rest of her body, moving without making a sound, allowing her to slip away from the boring tedium of etiquette and flower arranging and learn more unlady-like pursuits, such as basic fighting and sport jumping, the latter of which she excels at. Her parents disapproved, of course, and put a stop to such antics. As she got older, she was forced into the role her parents wanted for her: that of a dutiful lady fit to be a lord's wife. Unfortunately for them, while their elder daughter was quite popular with no shortage of suitors, Ilyia's status as being less than whole made her an unfavorable marriage candidate despite their high standing in the court. They eventually managed to arrange a marriage for her, but there was little love lost between the pair.

All seemed lost for the silent maiden until she met Fionn.

Once upon a time, in a kingdom not far from here, a maiden fair was betrothed to a handsome stallion. Which should have been the end of the story...

Fionn spotted her one day, sweeping through rows of cherry trees: Ilyia, mute daughter of the duchess. The court whispered about her, wondering if she could speak or if she was truly mute. She wandered the herdlands, often alone, completely without friends.

Looking both ways before crossing the orchard, he ambled over to her.

She blinked at him.

"Lady Ilyia," he began, well-aware that they should be introduced by a mutual friend, "I am Fionn, son of Lord Aodhan. Might I walk with you?"

Thus, their friendship began. It was a quiet thing, hidden from the court because the court did not care to see. Fionn learned to understand her: speaking to her, watching her move, copious "yes" or "no" questions.

One day, Fionn saw her surrounded by others for what may have been the first time. Three were younger sons of lords, but the fourth he knew: his oldest brother, Carrick, whose presence did not bode well. He had always been "lean and mean," according to their littlest sister. Unlike Fionn, Carrick had never lost his legginess. While he towered over Ilyia, he was slight enough to hardly cast a shadow. Fionn heard their conversation: "Won't you deign to speak with us, fair lady?" Carrick wheedled, his head bowing. "Or weren't you ever smart enough to learn?"

Rage filled Fionn's chest. He shouldered up to his brother. "You will treat Lady Ilyia as her rank requires, Carrick," he murmured into Carrick's ear. He pushed his way between his brother and Ilyia, forcing him to back away. Ilyia stood her ground like a proper lady - but not the kind one would have expected. "In fact, you will treat Lady Ilyia as her person deserves. You ought to kneel, brother. She is far more intelligent than you could ever hope to be, and that especially goes for you, gentlemen." Fionn nodded to the other stallions.

Carrick narrowed his eyes but was silenced by a crony walking off. Shaking his head, Carrick started away, as well. "Watch yourself, brother," he said to Fionn.

Fionn felt a sharp, soft rap at his hoof. "What?" he asked, turning around. "Did you expect me to allow anyone, least of all my brother, to treat you as less than the precious soul you are?"

Ilyia gazed at him, the determined fire in her eyes flickering. She haltingly shook her head. She sauntered past him, an invitation for a triumphant stroll around the glade.

Their next encounter with animosity went less well. Ilyia's betrothed may have been handsome, but nothing between his ears. One day, he proved it.

Ryan found Ilyia and Fionn by the court's pond, enjoying its tranquility. Before they saw him, he slammed them bodily into the pond.

Ilyia gasped, a tiny sound escaping her throat. It was barely audible over Fionn's splashing.

"AH!" shouted Ryan. Heads turned across the green. "IT SPEAKS!"

Fionn moved to step in front of Ilyia, but she moved first. She leaped up the bank of the pond, gracefully landing before Ryan.

"Carrick," spat Ryan, "told me that she's speaking, but that she's too stupid to talk to anyone but you." The stallion addressed Fionn, bypassing Ilyia.

"You speak of your betrothed this way?" he growled. "You know not the skills she possesses. You refuse to see her as a person. She is more than your future property or your alliance, Ryan." His eyes found Ilyia, whose back tightened. "She is more intelligent than anyone dares imagine. Did you know, for example, that she can best you in a fight?"

The mare sprang into action. Fionn burst from the water behind her.

The brawl ended with Ryan in the pond, the Guard marching up, and Fionn with his tail wrapped protectively around Ilyia's shoulder. Across the field, he met the eyes of her shocked mother. "Run," he whispered, his tail pushing her toward the forest. "We're not welcome here."

Fionn and Ilyia ran, but the sound of trackers faded more quickly than he anticipated. Before long, the couple came upon a rose garden. The flowers were beautiful; they smelled heavenly - but their scent mingled with death. Ilyia stopped, gazing at a dusky red rose.

"Come," said Fionn. "This place is cursed."

Though she lingered, she eventually came along. Minutes later, she nudged his shoulder. From their hiding spot in her mane, she pulled three large roses. She placed one in his kerchief. Fionn's eyes widened.

"Ilyia, these belong to someone. They were cultivated - this is stealing."

She gazed at him with steely eyes, staring him down.

Fionn relented, sighing. "Thank you," he murmured. He tucked the remaining roses behind her ear.

As he secured the last one, she jerked toward him, a strangled shriek ripping from her throat.

Fionn's gaze wheeled up. He met the orange eyes of a huntress. She bore the scent of death, stalking sinuously toward them. "Darling," he muttered in Ilyia's ear, "I know you're hurting, but we must go."

The mare struggled past him. It was only then that he saw the arrow in her thigh.

Facing the huntress, Fionn squared off against her. "What misdeed have we done you, madam?" he asked, giving Ilyia time to vanish into the woods. This huntress might track her, but Fionn would have a chance to, as well, if he got the upper hand. He would find Ilyia.

"You've stolen something of mine," the huntress rumbled, her voice sliding over Fionn's ears. "I will have it back, along with your head." Her eyes burned, focused on his chest and the rose there.

"It was given as a favor. I'll not easily give it away," he said. "If you want it, you'll have to take it."

"I will," said the huntress, tail swaying. "And then, I will take hers."

1. Face Off: Fionn and Maeve battle, and Ilyia looks on. Fionn and Maeve are both skilled fighters and armed with claws and teeth - they do not go down easily. Fionn is bent on protecting Ilyia, while Maeve is determined to retrieve her roses and the hides of those who stole them. While Maeve is distracted by Fionn, Ilyia fixes up her wound to the best of her ability. She flanks Maeve, and between Ilyia and Fionn, the pair of them manage to take her down long enough to escape.

2. The Hunt: Fionn and Ilyia run from Maeve, knowing in their bones that she will hunt them for as long as it takes to get her roses back, even long after they have faded. Fionn and Ilyia have their first fight - about his ethics when it comes to stealing and where they belong. They try to come up with a plan of action. First: lose her, throw her off the scent. Second, charm her and make her understand. Third, if it comes to it, kill her. Meanwhile, Maeve gets closer to them.

3. Tree'd: Maeve tracks Ilyia's blood, cornering Fionn and Ilyia. But they are dangerous when cornered. They manage to best her a second time while working together, but not without injury. As they attempt to make their escape, Maeve makes a vow: she will no longer come for them, but she will come for their children. She will pluck their buds as sure as Fionn and Ilyia plucked the ones in her garden.

4. Plan Z: Out of options to protect themselves and having no idea when she might strike in the future, Ilyia suggests that they continue on their quest to charm her in order to save their future children. Much to her frustration, Fionn agrees, but only if she agrees to attempt to make amends with her family.

5. Foxy Lady: Farther down the line, Fionn and Ilyia come into the possession of a charm by less-than-honorable means. Fionn has trouble getting over it, but they start back toward the court's lands, determined to find Maeve's territory. Ilyia, pregnant at the time, is determined to charm Maeve herself.

hey! when you say wolf alt do you mean the new husky one? o: