~ A Peace Offering ~

SAPHIRA

Just like the day before, Saphira is awake at the first light of dawn. Quickly and quietly, she gets herself dressed and geared up without waking up Chloe. The daughter of Apollo snoozes peacefully even as Saphira slips out of the tent and tiptoes away, sneaking through the camp full of her sleeping sisters. She's not up early to engage in another hunt. Not really, at least. Heading for the edge of the camp, she approaches one of the night watchers; an older girl named Marlene, former mortal from the Renaissance Era. Marlene raises a brow at her approach, not in suspicion, but in greeting.

"Morning, Saphira. Going out for your morning hike?" she asks as Saphira closes the distance.

"Yeah. I'm thinking I might take a little longer than usual," Saphira cooly replies, slowing her pace a bit as she speaks.

"Why is that?" Marlene asks. There's no suspicion in her voice still, only curiosity.

"Just have a lot on my mind and I need to clear my thoughts."

She nods. "I see. Very well. Enjoy your time out there, Saphira."

"I will. Thank you, Marlene," Saphira says before continuing on her way. She lets out a small sigh of relief as she enters the forest.

Crickets and owls still sing their nightly chorus, but as she hikes deeper into the woods, the nocturnal critters slowly begin to quiet down, and their cries are replaced by that of the waking daytime animals. Birds begin to chirp and whistle, while in the distance, Saphira can hear the call of elk. She is not here to hunt anything at the moment. She did her necessary hunting yesterday. It was a little uncomfortable for her, since she had to make a couple extra kills than what is normally needed, but she had to. It's necessary if she is to keep up her cover story.

About half an hour into her hike, Saphira reaches her first destination of the day. A clump of boulders in a dense part of the forest, blanketed by tall grass and shrubs. She climbs up to reach the top and lies in the crevice within. To her satisfaction, she finds no foul smell coming from the large portions of meat that are hidden within the crevice. The frigid temperatures of this region have done their job and kept the meat of the deer she had killed yesterday from spoiling. Inspecting the portions, she decides on a heavy chunk of hindquarter, but as she lifts it up, she hesitates.

There's no way to tell whether or not a cut this size would be appeasing, or even accepted. She could be putting a lot of strain on herself to carry it, and possibly have it be for nothing. Perhaps she should start smaller. Saphira turns away from the large hindquarter and settles for a section of ribs that is much easier for her to carry. She'll experiment with this piece first.

Now, it's time to head for her true destination.

Saphira clambers down from the rocks and back onto the forest floor to resume being on her way. The rays of the sun are beginning to shine more brightly through the canopy, filling the forest with the lazy, warm glow of early morning. Squirrels play in the branches above her. At one point, she passes a mother moose with its calf, that only warily watches her. Even if she was hunting, it would have nothing to fear. It is not the way of the Hunt to kill animals that are raising young.

Half an hour later, she's finally reached a familiar place. She can still see some of the dried blood and crushed grass from the day before. A small flicker of doubt begins to grow within her, but she forces it to be suppressed. She can do this. She has to… or at least, has to try. However, that she's thinking about it, why is she doing this? What's compelling her to take this course of action?

Before she can find an answer to these questions, she finds herself about the mouth of the passage to enter the ravine. From up here, she can get a bead on the entire, massive bowl-shaped dip in the earth; the waterfall that pours down into the small lake below, the little clump of small trees near the lake, and the ring of boulders that surround the perimeter of the ravine. However, even in this mostly empty space and with her keen, trained eyes, she cannot see any sign of whether or not the wolf is still here. Maybe this was a waste of time. Maybe he's already gone.

No.

She has to stop making excuses. No more of that. With a deep breath, she begins to walk down the narrow passage to the bottom, venison meat in hand. It is a narrow passage, but still just wide enough for even a moose to get through with little trouble. At the end of the passage, right before she can step into the open ravine, she hesitates with a new thought. If she wants to make a good impression here, simply having these ribs may not be enough.

Carefully, she begins to free herself of her bow and quiver. Now, she's certain she's an idiot for doing this. There's no telling how this will work out for her, but she has to try. With her primary weapon left behind at the foot of the passage, Saphira takes a moment to breathe and collect her nerves, then finally steps through and out into the ravine. Her eyes dart this way and that, searching for any signs of life. It's quiet here, save for the gentle rush of the waterfall and the birds that watch from the trees.

Then, Saphira hears it; a soft scrape on stone behind her. She spins around to face the boulders, looking up and then spotting him.

The wolf is perched at the top, crouched down above her with flattened ears, as if he had been waiting to pounce. Meeting his glare, Saphira swallows hard. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all. Then, the wolf begins to approach, carefully making his way down from the boulders. His movements are slow and deliberate, but as she watches him, Saphira realizes that he isn't stalking her. He's moving like a cautious predator, suspicious, but not entirely threatening either. Still, Saphira is uneasy as he descends and then creeps around her from a short distance. The fur along his back is raised, and his ears are still flattened, but he doesn't seem like he wants to attack. Not yet, at least.

Finally, he comes to a stop about six meters in front of her. His head and posture are somewhat low to the ground, like he's ready to spring either at her or away from her. He still has that same icy glare, and Saphira can hear a soft rumble stirring within his chest.

Time to see if this will pay off for her.

Tentatively, she holds up the venison ribs and extends her arm out to him, hoping to maybe draw him close enough to win his trust, or at least, make him relax a little. The wolf's ears swivel forward and she takes that as a sign that he's interested in what she's presenting to him. She nods to the meat offering, hoping to encourage him to take it. He seems to be capable of more expressions than normal wolves, because she swears she can see his glare soften into a frown. He then raises a forepaw as if he's about to take a step closer, his lips parting slightly in preparation to take the ribs.

Saphira's heart skips a beat when his eyes flick towards her hips, and he instantly recoils with a growl and bared fangs. His ears are flattened once more, and that glare was quick to return. Saphira inhales sharply at his sudden movement and her gaze darts down to her hip to see what he had reacted to. She curses inwardly when she realizes that she had forgotten about her knives. The wolf had been keen to notice them, and now he's staring at the silver blades without so much as blinking.

Saphira reaches down to unbuckle her belt, but her movement must have been too fast for his liking, because his growl suddenly deepens and his body twitches, as if he was about to either attack or run away. Saphira gasps softly, but when he stays put, she collects herself and prepares to try to disarm herself again. This time, she moves slowly so that he can easily see what she's doing, unbuckling her belt and letting it drop to the ground with her knives.

This doesn't seem to be enough for the wolf quite yet. His glare flicks up from her belt to her eyes briefly, before dropping his eyes again and deliberately gesturing with his head to his left, towards the lake. Saphira understands what he wants her to do. Using her foot, she manages to lift her belt and kick it towards the lake, where it lands in the shallows with a splash. The wolf follows the belt with his gaze, then glances back at her. Just like that, his ears perk up towards her as his glare disappears. He even drops to sit on his haunches and stares at her, not with malice or distrust, but a neutral expression. Not even the fur along his back is standing at attention anymore. The simple action of tossing away her only means of defense seems to have made him relaxed almost to the point that he could be one of the Hunt's own timber wolves.

She decides not to waste this moment and once again, holds out her peace offering.

The wolf first tilts his head with a curious manner, sniffing in her direction, or more accurately, the direction of the ribs. He rises and begins to cautiously draw closer to her, mitigating his gaze between her eyes and the ribs. Saphira holds her breath when he closes the distance, standing only a couple feet away now, just close enough to almost take the ribs. He must still be wary of her, because he gets no closer than that and instead opens his mouth as if waiting for her to give it to him.

Saphira clenches her jaw nervously as she then inches closer until she is able to place the meat in his jaws with a gentle toss. She nearly squeaks in surprise when his jaws snap shut and he springs away, startled by the sudden movement. But he only bounds a few meters away to crunch the ribs in his teeth, then swallows them with a lick of his muzzle. He must have liked the taste, to her relief… not to her relief, he seemed to have liked it a little too much.

He suddenly focuses on her again, and this time, his approach is straightforward, marching directly towards her with a tilt of his head. Saphira's heart begins to race a little faster as she backs away from his twitching, sniffing nose.

"Uh, no, no!" she protests, then gasps when her back comes into contact with a large boulder. Still, he comes right up to her, only a foot away from her and searching with that sniff. She hopes he doesn't become angry when she realizes that was all she brought. Maybe she should have taken the larger hindquarter…

"I don't have any more!" she says, gritting her teeth and trying to shrink away from him. He suddenly stops and meets her gaze again. Saphira thinks maybe she should be careful with her words, but also confident. She shouldn't show weakness to him.

"I'm sorry, but that was all I had for right now."

She makes sure her tone isn't challenging, but assertive and straightforward. To her shock and relief, he actually seems to understand her and moves away with a huff. Saphira lets a grateful sigh escape her lips, but now what does she do? The wolf only stands back and watches her. He appears to be calm at the moment. Perhaps he's realized she means him no harm. She still finds it remarkable that he hasn't attacked her yet. He truly is different from others of his kind.

She remembers that she came here not just to feed him, but to help and begins to sling off her pack and flip open the flap. The wolf narrows his eyes and emits a low growl, but he doesn't show his teeth. Still, Saphira heeds his warning and pauses in her actions, making eye contact with him.

"It's okay. See?" she says, slowly turning her pack over and spilling out its contents. When he sees that there are no hidden weapons in her pack, he stops growling. The suspicion transforms into curiosity as he observes her sorting through the items. Once she has what she needs, she looks up at him. Now that she's not concerned about him trying to eat her, she can see the smaller details, particularly in his posture. The left foreleg of his injured shoulder is held slightly off the ground, like he's trying to not put his weight on it. She can see the lacerations by the shards of the net going down his leg, and they don't look like they're healing as fast as they should. Strange, as most monsters can heal wounds fairly quickly.

He seems to be tame by now, so Saphira gets up and tries to approach him to take a look at his wounds. But when she takes only a few steps closer, he frowns and pulls his lips back just enough for her to see the tips of his teeth, and she stops in her tracks. She opens her mouth to try to speak and soothe him, but before she can say anything, he turns away and lopes to the other side of the ravine around the lake. He slows to a halt in a patch of grass and circles about before laying down and curling up. The message is clear that he no longer wants to be near her… but she needs to see those wounds.

Not quite yet ready to give up, she heads after him. He seems to be dozing off, so maybe if she's really cautious about it, she can inspect his injuries without irritating him. Luckily, the side that has the wound is facing towards her. She stoops down to her knees and shuffles closer. It looks like some shards of the net have remained embedded in him. That's why his wounds aren't healing. Silver is extremely harmful to wolves and until she gets those shards out, his wounds won't heal.

However, the moment she reaches out to him, he raises and turns his head to face he. She instantly withdraws her hand and scoots backward, but he doesn't seem angry. Annoyed if anything, because he simply gets up and ambles away from her. She heaves a sigh of slight irritation. He's making this more difficult than it needs to be. She resigns herself to the fact that he's just not ready to fully trust her. She'll just have to let him decide when that will be.

Gathering up her supplies again, she returns to where she left her pack and refills it with its contents. Now what does she do? Should she leave him now and come back later? He's picked a new spot over by the waterfall to sleep, so perhaps it's best that she leave him in peace and return tomorrow. She mulls over her options. She hasn't been gone very long, so she still has plenty of time before her sisters begin to ask questions about her whereabouts.

Saphira makes up her mind. She'll stay a while longer to see if he's willing to let her help him when he wakes up. If not, or if he remains asleep, she'll go back home.

. . .

It has been almost two hours since the wolf fell into his sleep. Saphira has kept herself busy with recollecting her weapons, feeling that even if he awakes to find her with them, he will trust her more since she could have easily killed him when he was asleep. Now, she's simply doodling in the dirt with a twig. She had paid no mind to what she would depict, but when she comes out of her day dream scape, she realizes she has drawn the wolf, and with detail that she did not know she had the artistic capability to display.

She became so absorbed in her work that she didn't notice the wolf behind her until he was practically standing over her shoulder. His shadow casts itself beside her's, and she freezes. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see that he's merely observing what she's doing. Then, he must have noticed that she has her weapons again, judging from the soft rumble in his throat. She inhales deeply, not wanting to make him suspicious and decides that the direct statement is the best approach.

"I did not reclaim my weapons to threaten you," she says bluntly, not even sure if he would understand what she's saying. "If I were to kill you, I could have shot you while you slept."

Again, he seems to show remarkable comprehension of her words as he ceases his growl. If not the words themselves, then the tone of her voice must be what he can decipher from. Curious, Saphira wonders which is to be the case.

"Do you understand what I am saying?" she asks, turning to face him.

At first the wolf only stares back at her, making her think that maybe he doesn't actually understand her words. Then, he slowly blinks and very deliberately dips his head in a single nod. Saphira is amazed that he can understand her perfectly. Most beast-like monsters, such as hellhounds, the Nemean Lion, and others, do not understand speech unless they are trained or answer to a power much higher than themselves.

This is perfect as it means she can explain why she is here, to do more than simply give him food.

"I know that you do not trust easily, but I promise you that I only want to help you," she says, reaching for her pack and making sure he sees exactly what she's doing. "Your wounds will not heal unless I remove the silver."

The wolf huffs but sits back on his haunches before dropping onto his belly. Saphira takes that as a sign to reach out to him and better examine his injuries. This time, his lip only quivers, but he does not growl. However, he does watch her with unblinking eyes as she runs her fingertips up his foreleg towards the lacerations. He twitches at her touch, but continues to remain calm.

"I'm going to remove the silver now. It will hurt," she informs him. She doesn't want any surprises for either of them. When he doesn't react to this, she goes ahead and pinches her fingers around the first shard of silver. On a silent count of three, she pulls the shard free. The wolf winces and allows a soft grunt to escape him, but he remains calm and composed. Saphira breathes and continues with removing the other shards. The task takes only a minute to finish and by the time she's done, eight shards lay on the ground.

"I'm done. See? Your injuries will heal now," she says to him. The wolf tilts his head, inspecting his leg and giving it a tentative lick. Saphira picks up the roll of gauze she had packed. "Do you want me to wrap this?"

He replies with a soft rumble that tells her he's done letting her touch him.

Saphira packs away her supplies and carefully scoots away from him. Even now, he's still distrustful. She supposes she can't really blame him for that. She is the one who shot him after all, and she doesn't doubt the possibility that he knows it was her arrow that struck him. A millennia-old rivalry doesn't just go away after one day. There are many reasons why the Pack and the Hunt hate each other. Both see themselves as the superior hunters, both have spilled blood on either side, and the Hunt thwarting Lycaon's attempts to kill the heroes of the Second Great Prophecy, all led to this fresh, boiling feud.

It is almost mid-morning by now. Saphira realizes that she has to return to camp before her sisters come looking for her.

"I have to go now," she announces, standing up and backing away from the wolf. He sits up, but remains where he is, only watching her. He only makes a sound when she stoops to collect her weapons, so she again has to carefully, deliberately make slow movements while trying to assure him.

"I have to take them with me," she says, cautiously slinging her bow and quiver around her shoulder. "If I go back without them, they will ask questions."

The wolf's growl softens, but his suspicious glare remains on his face. Saphira decides to maybe try to connect with him a little bit more.

"I'll return sometime tomorrow to look at your injuries again," she offers, then adds quickly: "if you're still here, that is."

The wolf's glare fades away, replaced by that curious inquisitiveness once again. He then stands up and pads away to his sleeping place on the other side of the lake. Saphira watches him head off before turning around to begin her own trek, hiking back up the narrow passage to leave the ravine. She hopes that her fellow hunters haven't launched a search party yet and picks up the pace to make it back to camp before any drama unfolds.