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Reluctantly, Fell was forced to break the connection with his sister and he felt his mind pull away from the scene in the puddle, even though he himself couldn't bare the separation. But when Larka turned and forcefully shattered communication through the Sight, Fell had no choice and the black wolf collapsed on the ground, sides heaving with effort and head throbbing. Had it all just been a dream? Had he been communicating with his sister in the land of the dead? Or was it true what the younger wolf, Talon had said? That Larka was living again?
But then of course, his thoughts turned to the next thing she'd said that had perked his attention. This young pup was to be his master? That was out of the question! He growled quietly, mulling this over and then watching the smirk that appeared on the other's face at the statement. It seemed he immediately settled into this new "role" and had started ordering Fell around. Well of course, Fell wasn't going to have that without a fight. Or at least without stating some ground rules of his own. He stood up and anchored his paws into the ground, staring at Talon. The guilt and pain were still in his eyes, but even now they were fading, being replaced with a fierce determination. He did not "come along" when told, nor did he flinch as the pup directed his wings and froze the waterway he'd been looking into just a moment ago.
"Let's get one thing straight. I don't care how much arcane power you can blow out your snout, nor do I care if you've been charged by some higher deity to take on this mission. I don't care that my sister, if that even really was her, said that you would be my "master". You will not treat me like you're better than me, pup. And I will not be whipped like some cur at a human's feet." He huffed for a moment before tensing the muscles in his legs and then relaxing them. A soft, even breath rolled off his lips as he calmed himself down. "I will, however, respect that you can teach me more about the Sight and explain what is going on. But, that is provided that you give the same respect to me, in turn. And if you try to treat me otherwise, wings, no wings, magic, no magic, I will not stand for it."
The last bit was simple and clear. Fell surely didn't understand the strange things that were now happening around him, or at least he didn't understand just yet, but he knew that if he needed to, he would defend his pride and honor as a varg. But in response to the pup's first request, he folded his wings as neatly as he could along his back and sides, struggling with the new appendages at first, which were still wet and stained in what appeared to be sanguine liquid. It was mostly as a show of good faith for the proposal he'd just offered, though in the back of his mind he thought sarcastically, 'Yeah right. Me fly right now? I wouldn't even have the first clue how and these things almost seem to have a mind of their own.' As if in retort to the thought, the wings twitched then lay still.
A large, mottled black female paced nervously near the man who was watching the small grouping of winged wolves. The grey hairs in her fur revealed her age, for she certainly wasn't a young varg. She too had her own pair of flight enabling appendages, though hers were somewhat less attractive than theirs. In fact, hers were made of a tough, leathery hide spanned between thicker phalanx bones that traveled up from her shoulder blades and into the wings, like a bats or a dragon's. In addition to the finger-like bones that controlled the wings, each also had a sinister hook like bone at the apex. Currently both bones were hooked together, drawing the wings around the wolf's body like a cloak, the hooked bones joining directly underneath her jugular.
Her eyes narrowed as she watched the wolves too and a quiet snarl crept out of her barely opened jowls. She wrinkled her nose, the scars that ran along it and up the majority of her face following the direction of the muscles pulling on the skin. "Back to the scene of the crime, eh Larka?" her voice cracked. She would have added a more potent insult, but then she saw the smaller white female looking down at something. A puddle of water? And what appeared to be a black figure shimmered there on the surface of the water. A wicked grin sidled onto her maw, making both ears, one torn, raise in interest. "Ahh, and little Fell too. Or should I say Wolfbane." A smirk then followed the grin, and she let out a short hoarse laugh.
Her gaze then traveled to the man, the cruel glee still apparent in her mood. It was as if she wasn't afraid of him at all, which would have been odd, for wolves normally fear or hate man. Morgra especially. In fact, she almost seemed to relish his presence. But despite this, she still paced a little, though her gait had slowed a good deal. "So they're going to Harja. What shall we do now? Wait for them to make a move, or strike first?"
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