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There was something familiar about this wolf. Django had been watching her for days now, skirting the edges of this well-marked territory and keeping his unkempt and unwashed body downwind whenever possible. This alpha, reminded him of past pack leaders- her strength, her dark fur and muscled body, and the sureness with which she moved through her pack. The only detail he could not move past was her gender.

A female alpha! The idea was foreign to him, yet not… not wrong. He turned it over slowly in his mind as each day passed, and with its growing familiarity came, too, a growing remembrance of other things - certainly not similar, but nonetheless related . Memories of previous packs he had followed -quietly like this, never announcing his presence- came back to him. A particular pack, dark and strong like this alpha, resurfaced again and again - perhaps because they were the last wolves he had sought to join with, perhaps because of something more.

And finally, the familiarity of this alpha made sense. It felt almost like a memory not his own, too long ago for the details to be fully recalled. Yet there she was in his memory, a part of this dark-furred pack. He remembered her never quite at ease - the pups nipping at her heels might have been the cause of that, but her restlessness had seemed more deeply rooted than that. And then she had been gone, and two of the bumbling pups with her…

He remembered this departure not because it had been of particular interest to him - the pack had given females little other options besides being beaten down or fleeing. No, he remembered her flight because of what she had left behind. A male pup, as dark as all the others, old enough to fend for himself yet not old enough to leave.

He had wondered over this pup, even fought with jealousy he felt for it, at times. The pack would never accept him he had found, not with his mottled colors and mangy coat. He envied this pup its near-unquestioned acceptance, due only to the shade of its fur.

And then he had moved on, too, given little reason to stay on the fringes of a pack that he would never join. There had been no other packs for a time, and this showed in his body - not just in his appearance, bedraggled as he was, but in the very way he carried himself. He was tired, hungry most of the time, achy and looking for someplace to call his own.

He watched her, this now familiar alpha, and he saw in her a chance to find this place, a chance, even, that he might rise within the ranks…

The thought made the sly wolf smile.

Padding out from the scrub bushes where he had been watching from, he descended the slope into the clearing where she stood, well aware that he would be spotted by her almost instantly. He noted her worried eyes, her crumpled brow and every shift of her body which said she was deep in thought, and the words formed themselves without much thought at all. They were groveling, distanced words, but seemingly innocuous - and if he had timed it right they were just what she wanted to hear.

“My Queen, you may not know me, but I remember you. You seem… distressed. Is there any service I might offer, any way I might help? I seek only to be useful to you, in whatever way I can.” He kept his head to the ground, muzzle nearly brushing the ground. For now he would not mention becoming part of this pack - though it might prove an acceptable award, if she did have need of him.

She’s was more intimidating than he remembered, and even though he had observed her strength and planned his subservience, it still shook him. But then, she was in an entirely different situation now than when he had last encountered her. Before she had been nothing more than another mother among various used females, and now - now she was Alpha of her own pack, addressed by seemingly no other title than Queen.

Her hackles had been up almost instantly, suspicion and readiness written in her every gesture as soon as he had begun to move. He reacted instantly, too, without thinking - the realization that displays of dominance could make him instinctively meek and servile was bothersome, but he did not dwell on it. For now, immediate submission could only help to ingratiate him to the alpha.

Dipping his head still lower as she spoke, he allowed himself to raise his head once she was finished. There was a level that was confidence and a level that was too bold, and he chose the former of the two while still not meeting her eyes. He would not challenge her with his own eyes, ever - of that he was sure.

“I know you, yes. Know of you, recognize you, once knew you - I could recount one chapter of your life, but little else besides that. It is only a memory that you speak of, but one I remember fairly well… a memory, say, as old as your son?” A sly amusement hovered around Django at this suggestion, not cruel but nonetheless aware of the emotions that he might be stirring by mentioning the unfortunately-tailed wolf - and, by default, his brother.

Cocking his head, Django observed the darkly colored alpha, gauging her reaction.

“I remember the birth of three wolves. I remember one male who I see with you now, and I remember one female who followed her own path.” he paused, standing stolidly before her, casting emotionless eyes towards the ground. “And… I remember one wolf, whose likeness stands before me now - a male who I have not seen for some time.”

Letting his gaze flicker upwards once more, he finished with one final murmur, his voice almost too soft to hear: “I remember one female who birthed three pups, and fled, leaving one behind. I am only an observer, a loner, someone watching from the outskirts - but this is what I remember.”

So, he had her attention now. Django smiled, lips peeling back in a grimace - an expression which was meant to be pleasant, although his haggard looks never quite conveyed the feeling. He followed her head upwards with his own, although his tail remained glued between his legs. There was a fine line between attention and insolence, which he did not intend to cross.

He watched Lilith carefully, watched her turn away, and understood that his careful words had triggered something inside of her. It was intentional, but still - everything from here on in was touch and go. In fact, everything so far had been touch and go. He had no way of knowing how she might react to anything he chose to say. All he could do was test, and hope that he didn’t overstep his boundaries.

Django waited, patiently. What thoughts were churning in her head he couldn’t know, but he would certainly find out. Understanding flooded her eyes as she looked back at him, recognition, finally, of their shared past.

Of course she did not remember him. No one ever remembered him, Django reflected briefly, with a distant indifference. Not that he had made an effort to be seen by her, or to be taken in by that pack - they had disliked his mangy fur from the start, and warned him off immediately. But he had stuck around, and it was in this sad, packless state that he had observed Lilith - and her pups - running away.

It was this action that had made her stick out, that had made him follow. She was a dark female, as were all the others of the pack - but she made herself known through her actions, at least, and it had caught his interest, lodged in his memory.

She forced her next words out carefully, as though she didn’t quite know if she wanted to say them. The fact that she had said them, however, gave Django a hint as to her feelings. It was painful for her to ask, maybe because of the subject matter or perhaps simply because of the vast rank difference that stood between them - but she did want his help. Or rather, she wanted him to be able to help her. And, with a dawning comprehension of his own, he understood what she wanted.

“I can help you find what you lost, Lilith.” He spoke her name plainly, the dark fur above his eyes arching pointedly. “I can help you find your son. I’ve lived all over these lands, and tracked the movements of more than just this pack. I know places, know the wolves and the territory they claim - and I know the unclaimed land, too, the places that a loner could slip away unnoticed.” He paused, realizing that he was nearly babbling in his urge to convince, and then added one last thought with a hint of something close to humor in his voice.

“There are many places in this land where a wolf could slip through the cracks - but you’ll find that I know those hideaways like the back of my own paw.”