Chapter 76: Protection
The knife slipped when the door to his room opened, though by now he had gotten into the habit of applying the pressure away from him, saving him from the occasional pricks and cuts. He inspected the piece he was working on quickly, exhaling in a shot of relief when nothing seemed to have gotten damaged.
Joseph stretched in his chair, glancing over his shoulder to check who had entered and raising his brows slightly. Harrow looked at him with a request for permission to enter on her face. He nodded, going back to his task while gesturing for her to take a seat wherever.
She did, dragging over a spare stool and leaning on the table. Due to her shorter stature not matching well to the desk, her chest pressed into the edge, a change in posture needed to fix the awkward pressure. With two small thuds, her elbows popped onto the table, her paws cupping her cheeks as she idly watched him carve designs into his project.
“What are you making?”
He glanced over at her, smirking as he continued. “What about you? You’ve been doing something in secret for a few weeks now.”
She rolled her eyes as one arm flopped down. “I can’t tell you.”
“Then I can’t either,” he replied smugly, though he was thankful the societal differences made his work harder to place. She reached out to pluck one of the pieces he had yet to engrave and turned it over in her claws as she inspected it.
“Looks like my choker, but tiny,” she commented with mild interest.
“Oh, speaking of.” He laid his knife down to stretch out his hand, his knuckles popping in the process. “How’s that holding up?”
Harrow looked at him, laying the ring down to run a claw along the accessory he had gifted her in the winter. A small smile tugged at her lips. “Good. It’s not deforming or anything. You did a good job.”
He chuckled, cracking his thumb before retrieving the blade. “Glad to hear. I had to guess the size, so it’s nice for it not to choke you out or ruin your fur or something.”
She snorted, pushing the circular piece back where she stole it from. “Nope. I don’t really take either off.” She flicked her tail, the ringlet around the base catching the light. “But they’re comfortable.”
Joseph nodded. “Okay, that’s good to know.”
She stared at him, a claw lethargically crawling across the table to poke him. He ignored it until it was about to touch his arm, tapping the flat of his knife lightly across her knuckles and laughing when she cradled the paw. “Ow. Why?”
“Why are you here?”
She flopped her ears innocently, tilting her head down to give him puppy-dog eyes. “Am I not allowed to spend time with you?”
He pursed his lips as he fought the urge to scratch her ears. The woman knew how to look adorable and she had no problems using it to her advantage. “Not if you’re going to poke and prod at me while I’m busy.”
“Even after you carried me off and had your way with me?”
He scowled at her, breaking into a grin at the intensifying ‘cute’ act. “I didn’t think you’d want another round of lectures.”
After he had gotten back from making sure the pod would have everything it needed to be transformed into a way-station for hunting expeditions, he had carried Harrow over his shoulder and dumped her into the sewing room to clean up whatever mess there was while he gave her a long lesson about littering. At some point, Jax had tried to help and received an equally lengthy talk about letting Harrow suffer the consequences of her actions.
The whole thing ended when Harrow tried to pull a page out of Tel’s book and started trying to flirt with him to get her way out of it. It wouldn’t have been a problem, usually. The issue was that Jax thought the whole thing was fucking hilarious and did his best imitation of his mate.
Even if he wasn’t actually that upset with them, having a shorter female purring into his ear about letting her go—and having a guy who was at least a foot taller than him do the same—had him laughing hard enough that he had a stitch in his side for a while. It shouldn’t have been that funny, but Jax was dead-set on copying even the shifting hips of his bond in a way that did nothing but make him look absolutely hammered. He ended up telling them both to go away before he pissed himself.
“Jax is busy and I’m waiting for Heralt to finish making wire,” Harrow admitted, flopping onto the table as much as she was able. Joseph scratched at her muzzle, running his nails up her snout between her eyes and repeating the process a few times. “Why does this feel nice?”
He ignored the rhetorical question, giving up his resistance and scratching at her ears while he looked over his work. “What do you need wire for?”
“A few things,” she replied lazily, her eyes closing to enjoy the attention. “We want to try making barbed wire for the walls. It’d be good for smaller works too. Really it was just a good use for the gears we made.”
“Ah,” he drolled. They had seen the diagrams that Tel made and Harrow seemed to light up like a spotlight when it crossed her mind that they could do a lot of stuff with what they had. Her first declaration was using the cogs to make a rudimentary steam engine using the excess heat from the forge to power simple machines. Heralt was completely on board for a hammer-forge, whatever that was, but it seemed like getting gears right required more precision that they were ready for and far more pressure than they could manage. Something about co-prime numbers and torque.
When he suggested a lathe and a milling machine, both seeming to pop up a lot in conversations about Rob’s work, the two spent the better part of four days drafting plans. That is, until the smith admitted that he needed more time to play with the metal they had until he felt comfortable doing more precise work.
Ever since her dreams of industrialization were put on hold, Harrow entered a bit of a funk while the simpler testing phases of things played out. With Jax not being around as often, she ended up wandering around from person to person for company, ending up in his room or office when everyone else failed to sate her boredom.
He didn’t mind, per se—she was still a close friend—but she tended to want a bit more physical contact than he would have expected. If it wasn’t for Tel teasing him, he never would have noticed. He was a pretty tactile person anyway, so Harrow leaning on him or all but demanding pets wouldn’t have crossed his radar.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t been a physical person before, his stomach still remembered the punches she gave when she was flustered, but she sought him out for it more after her breakdown outside of the barracks when she helped set everyone up for treatment. He wasn’t sure if it was because he had offered her comfort until she calmed down, or that she had spent the night. He still remembered being confused about his makeshift prison that morning.
It was interesting to wake up with Jax cuddling into his back and Harrow burrowing into his chest, the big black-furred male turning out to be a sturdy backrest and Harrow effectively being a liquid when it came to adjusting her so that his arm wouldn’t turn to static. Though they both thanked him for offering company when it was needed, he dismissed it, telling them that he didn’t mind the experience. And he didn’t, truth be told. As nice as it was to bury himself into the fur of Pan or Tel to his heart's content, there was something nice about the cuddle-puddle that made him sleep heavier.
Maybe it was the literal bodies making it difficult to move...
“...But then I’d have to arrange something for that, so I’m not sure how to go about it,” Harrow concluded, her relaxed expression remaining as he noticed his hand had drifted to her cheek and his thumb was tracing around her closed eyes. He blinked, acknowledging that he had heard basically none of what the problem was.
“Sorry, I zoned out. What’s up?”
She cracked an eye to look at him, an exhale given before she nuzzled into his touch. “Never mind. Just trying to sort out random ideas.”
He picked his knife back up, smirking slightly at Harrow’s pout when the sounds of him scratching the ring signalled the end of his petting. “I’m here whenever you want to talk.”
“I know,” she replied softly, her gaze fading to the middle-distance.
The door creaked slightly, his instinctive act of pushing his project under his folded shirts having him wince when his finger glided over the edge of the knife. The slightest scent of sweet peppermint accompanied the light warmth on his back as Tel’s paws wrapped around him, her muzzle resting on his shoulder. She eyed Harrow for a moment with a smirk he could feel against his cheek.
“Seducing her again, my male?”
He snorted, his attempt to inspect the cut on his finger interrupted by the grey-furred female grabbing his wrist and placing the wounded digit into her mouth. She nibbled the joint as she gazed at him playfully, her tongue wrapping around his finger in suggestive ways. He waited until she released it with a long lick to respond.
“Turning into a vampire?” He wiped off the spit, eyeing the mild injury and shaking his hand to uselessly ward off the sting. He gestured for Harrow to grab a small strip of healroot before the blood built up enough to make sticking it to his skin complicated, though it wasn’t happening as he expected.
Tel placed a paw to his jaw, nipping his ear as she purred into it. “Enjoying your taste, is all. Would you rather I stop?”
He looked up to the ceiling and thinned his lips to distract from the subtext of the question. “Rather you don’t start thinking I’m food.”
She giggled, giving his neck a parting kiss before separating. “Our saliva aids in coagulation. Though it wouldn’t be much assistance beyond small things like that.”
“Huh.” Harrow handed him the healroot, his free hand applying it to the cut and flexing his finger a few times to make sure it wasn’t too tight. Satisfied that it wasn’t going to turn blue, he laid both hands on the desk and gave her a questioning raise of his brow. “What can I do for ya?”
She returned with a confused expression before seeming to remember what brought her around to begin with. “Ah, we have a visitor.”
“A visitor?” He felt his face harden involuntarily. Tel looked to the skylights, an arm behind her back as a claw tapped at her chin.
“I believe ‘Toril’ should ring a bell, no?”
Harrow jumped when he got to his feet, the chair clattering as it barely avoided falling over.
“Numbers.”
Tel placed her claw to his lips as she leaned forward, a smirk pairing with her confident upward gaze. “Two. Your ‘girls’ are keeping an eye on them as they approach, my male.” She straightened her posture as she closed the slight distance, a paw running up his chest as her lips rested mere fractions from his own. “Their demise is but a whisper away should you wish it.”
He stared into her eyes, cycling a breath to calm himself down. With a nod, he gave her paw a squeeze and ran his fingers through his hair. “Okay. We can do two. Get the pack to tuck away anything we don’t want seen. I’ll grab my gear.” He shot a glance at Harrow. “Don’t suppose you’ve been working on sniper rifles?”
She shook her head, a mild worry on her expression. “Heralt has been working with me to make the crossbows a little more powerful, but we need to get glass underway for any kind of scopes or general optics.”
“Worth asking,” he let out with a breath. “Check the dust bath. I think glass is one of the options in there, though I don’t know if it would be good for that kinda thing.”
She shrugged, a contemplative tilt of her ear telling of her considerations. “Optical glass is more complicated than it sounds. I’ll bring it up, but I don’t think anyone we have has experience with it.”
“Sounds good.” He turned his attention to Tel, her tail being the only thing betraying her otherwise disinterested body language. “You want to come with me?”
The Blade smiled, her canines glinting in the sunbeam from the skylight. “I’m never far, my male.”
He didn’t get a chance to clarify before she left the room, likely to grab her gear from the gym. A deadpanned frown was given until he looked at Harrow. “You?”
She shook her head. “I’ll help make sure the bows and crossbows are ready.”
He watched her leave as well, a lingering glance given to the hidden pieces he was hoping to have roughed out by the end of the day. He let a long sigh slip as he reached for his bracers.
Even with the skewed timetable, it still felt like a Monday.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Pan waited by the gate, her bracers feeling heavy on her arms and the thin ironwood plates under her clothing weighing her down. Though she maintained her composure outwardly, she didn’t feel ready to greet another Grand Hunter. It was something she chastised herself for internally, her bond having already done as much and even going so far as to return with favourable results, though the methods he had chosen worried her immensely.
Although one of the ‘girls’ had been sent to fetch Joseph and Tel, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy not having the two near. She was sure she could diplomatically host visitors until they were ready, but it was the station of those involved and possible implication of the visit that worried her.
Were they here to declare a breach in the treaty they were otherwise unaware of? Was there a pack waiting out of view for an incursion to be initiated?
She took a steadying breath, pushing back the anxiety that came from being away from Joseph for any measurable length of time. A mote of his scent caught her nose, her nerves abating as if there was never anything to consider to begin with. It increased in intensity as he came within view, his macabre adornment donned.
It had increased in complexity since High Hunter Bratik had arrived, evolving to include long bones along his arms and a rib cage on the outside of his coat, a spine up the back overlaid his own that bled into pauldrons on his shoulders made from carved skulls not unlike the one he wore over his face.
Though Pan was aware that many in the pack were not particularly fond of the image, she found it didn’t bother her in the slightest for some reason. No matter what he looked like, he was still her mate, and she could still strongly feel his influence. Said influence told her that he was just as anxious as she had been, but it was eclipsed by a trust in those around him.
With just the way he gazed behind the mask she could tell he was comforted by the unseen members of their pack, and a small beacon within him soothed her worry with the knowledge that Tel was likely within proximity as well. She allowed the smile to form as he got close, his own trepidation melting once he saw it.
“So, what’s the plan? We gonna’ meet them up front or head to the office?”
She giggled at his unbothered tone. “Would you wish to intimidate them?”
He gestured broadly to his modified trench coat, the hexagonal plates under the black leather barely outlined under the skeletal modifications. “Well I’m not dressed for prom”
Pan walked the few steps that separated them to hook her arm around his, laughing at the unfamiliar word, though she suspected she understood the intention. “I believe we could enjoy a few moments waiting in the office.”
“Ah, yes. The ‘brooding before the meeting’ style of date. Highly recommended.” He shook his head at his own quip, slipping his paw down to hold hers.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
“Will Tel be joining us?” she asked passively as they started towards the Hall. Joseph looked around for a moment before humming indecisively.
“She’s around. Probably picking out a spot she can watch. Maybe borrowing paint-balls from the girls so she can bother Toril,” he mused, pausing to consider something. “Or us, really.”
“That would be of her character, yes,” she admitted lightly, an ear flicking as she shifted to avoid the aforementioned projectile tossed in her direction. It was a slow throw, at least compared to the ones she had gotten used to avoiding, so it was a safe assumption to say that Tel was within earshot. Pan frowned playfully at the female’s antics.
“I’d rather not play dodgeball before I need to sort this shit out, but it’s nice to know we could,” Joseph commented with a shake of his head. He tightened his grip on Pan’s paw, her returning it as they entered the building and traversing the stairs towards his office.
It had seen some minor improvements over the suns, a display shelf in the corner opposite the desk showcasing the most recent sculptures from their kit and Mama. It currently held a likeness of the sparse avian, a rock-worm, a model of the Hall, and what seemed to be an attempt at a lithograph of Jax napping in the hub with Harrow doing the same across his lap. The last item was created after Joseph suggested such might be possible, though it seems that rubber-wood was too dense for it to work properly. Regardless, it was a striking recreation that Mama was rather proud of.
The Grand Hunter took a seat, adjusting the mess of tablet reports into an orderly pile that seemed to be sorted stacks of some metric. She watched, her tail absently resting across his lap which he stroked once he was finished. It was a soothing touch, the pad of his thumb running the small length it could access from the stationary position of his paw.
The door to the office opened, Joseph tensing until Scarlet was revealed holding a tray with several cups. One had a steady stream of steam listing off the surface of the liquid, the male accepting it with a genuine gratitude as he smelled the scentless beverage he had grown rather fond of after imploring Tel to dry the leaves of the plant she apparently used to hide her scent. Pan smiled at the satisfaction he experienced taking the first tentative sip.
Although he had seemed rather discouraged when Tel ceased using the plant, it had purportedly been reinstated in specific areas. The Paw would normally never have been able to hazard a guess as to where it was applied on the gunmetal-furred female, but it only took a few suns for her to notice Joseph’s satisfaction with the returned scent when he was near certain regions. It seemed that Tel had chosen to apply small amounts to her thighs and her chest, a curious question revealing a disinterested answer that it did not cover her mark when used there in small enough amounts, and that those places were where Joseph tended to lay his head in his rest.
The unspoken implication that she wished to impart a scent he found pleasant during other activities did not escape Pan, but she also found it cute that Tel seemed to be somewhat reticent regarding that subject when she was around. It wasn’t that she minded the two being intimate—quite the opposite—but having the female show her acceptance of Pan in the relationship in such a fashion was a kind gesture regardless.
The door opened again as Scarlet laid the tray off to the side, their guests being escorted in by Faye, a deep-gold-furred female who had recently been added into Joseph’s personal retinue of Blades due to her assistance in Scarlet’s duties. Just like her precursor, she had taken to the teachings and was a rather unassuming visage, despite the litany of weapons hidden within pockets and slits in the uniform she wore.
A white-furred male—donning a long leather coat much like the one Joseph wore—entered the room, an involved curiosity dancing in his eyes as his smile never seemed to leave his face. His first action upon entering was to place a fist to his muzzle as he inspected the interior of the room, his gaze scanning the scripts along the walls passively. Something about the way his coat draped over his back had Pan suppress a raised brow, but she disregarded the oddity as she couldn’t comment with certainty.
The female that followed him seemed far more wary than the male, her black fur turning beige at the roots to imply that it was once dyed, though it had perhaps been due for a touch-up for some time now. She wore simple attire, a slightly thick leather top and pants that seemed a touch too specifically padded to be mere clothing. Were it not for her experience crafting pseudo-armour for her mate and some of the security, she never would have noticed the difference. As it were, something told her that the female was dressed for combat, as subtle as it was.
Joseph’s focused gaze and tensed muscles suggested he noticed something was different as well, but he maintained a firm yet casual posture, an unconcerned sip taken from his odd tea. Pan took it upon herself to initiate the meeting, bowing her head slightly when Faye closed the door.
“Greetings. I am P-”
“Silence, defect,” the female barked. “Do not speak before your better.”
The white-furred male waved her off from the side, his interest remaining on the furniture and decorations in the room rather than the impropriety. “Now, now, Precious. Let the poor female speak.”
Scarlet retrieved the tray she had set aside, placing the remaining cups of water down on the ‘coffee table’ for the visitors to partake in at their leisure. Pan waited a beat for the female to glower at her, an unperturbed expression returned. She didn’t bother translating the short exchange, the dropping mood of her mate told her that he had parsed enough of it to understand roughly what had transpired. The curious male seemed to glance in his direction, a light in his eye gleaming before he resumed his idle inspections.
“As I was saying,” the Paw began again, a flat tone replacing the more welcoming one she had initially assumed. “I am Pan, Paw of Grand Hunter Joseph. The male to my side is him, as well as my bond. May we-”
“How many lies do you intend to spout, defect?” the female interjected again, her eyes growing slightly hostile as she kept flicking them to the increasingly annoyed Human.
Scarlet bowed politely, her completely neutral cadence an oddity. The Blade seemed to be rather pleased most of the time, though Pan had only known her to interact with Joseph or assorted members of the pack.
“I can verify the Paw’s claim, new ones. She is indeed bonded.”
“You.” The female jabbed a claw towards Joseph. “Do you not control your own? Your servants speak without permission and you go so far as to hide your features behind that hideous attire. You are in the presence of Grand Hunter Toril and we demand the respect that affords us.”
The Human raised an arm slightly to look at the intricate bone carvings that Mama and Atrox had spent quite some time making for him. “They worked hard on this...”
Pan openly scowled, the genuine pang of hurt within her bond irritating her. She was about to send them away, if not demand a stilling of the female’s tongue, but Grand Hunter Toril spoke before she could, his tone jovial, yet unyielding.
“Tersa. Manners.”
The female stiffened, her eyes glazing over slightly as she adopted a more reserved presence. A slightly quickened pace of her breathing preceded a light bow in apology. Having cowed the female, Grand Hunter Toril nodded towards Joseph, his admiration of the room completed.
“Apologies, Grand Hunter. I’m afraid Tersa here is disgruntled by our arrival.” He tilted a head as he tapped a claw to his muzzle. “And perhaps your attire... Is that defensive, or merely decorative? I see the bone has been scorched, but that would not account for the rigidity beyond the framework. Have you treated the material in any particular way? It seems to be rather well done. May I speak to your seamstress? I would very much like to inspect her materials and processing methods. Perhaps you might enlighten me as to the procedure? If not-”
Tersa reached out and grabbed the male by the ear, pulling him back from the inquisitive steps he attempted to take with the barrage of questions, her expression falling back to one of apologetic irritation. “This is the reason I suggested I would be the one to speak,” she hissed at a volume that was perhaps too loud for the whisper it was supposed to be.
“Ah, ow. Precious, I still need that.”
“Then use it to listen,” she retorted, a defeated sigh escaping as any pretense of haughty attitude left her. She gave Pan a weary nod. “I am Tersa, mate of this one. Do forgive him for his questions and myself for my impertinence.”
Pan was about to formulate something to say, herself mentally on the back foot from the rapid tone shifts, but Joseph snorted, breaking out into laughter after a moment. “At least someone seems as lost about the whole thing as I am,” he commented in English, a sly glance given to the Paw. “Tell ‘em it’s fine. I’d rather them be as relaxed as he seems to be.”
She blinked, passing along the message before she could think about if she agreed with it or not. Either way, her mate seemed to be more relaxed seeing someone as casual as he preferred to be, so she decided that Toril’s behaviour was the better of the two.
“He does not mind. Rather, he implores you to be at ease. As far as your questions, I’m afraid that I am unable to answer all of them at this time, but the material and methods are of my own doing,” she provided, gesturing to the coat that Toril seemed so interested in. “I am the primary seamstress for the pack. Before we wander too far off topic...”
She offered a paw to suggest they resume where they left off before the deviation, Toril taking a casual seat and grabbing for the water. Tersa’s paw shot out to stop him from drinking the beverage, Joseph hardening his gaze at the female with a scrutinizing edge, though he didn’t see fit to say anything.
Toril laid the cup down, his disconnected smile never faltering in an oddly unsettling way. “Where were we? Ah, Introductions. Yes, I am Toril, apologies for the belated reveal. As she has said,” he paused to raise a paw to the female accompanying him. “This is Tersa. She is my mate, as well as the one who keeps me out of trouble.”
“Not going to mention she’s a Blade?” Joseph asked coolly, a firmness hiding under his unconcerned tone. Pan flicked an ear as she translated.
Tersa snarled, reaching for something from her waist until Toril firmly held his arm to stay her paw. She glowered, but eased back on the possible weapon. Scarlet adjusted her posture, the knife lightly slipped from its holster under her apron being shifted back into place. Pan lowered her arm that had been used to cover in front of her mate should the Blade commit on her impulse, the visiting Grand Hunter seeming to take an interest in the bracer.
Joseph glanced upwards to the false ceiling, bringing his gaze back down when he confirmed it was still in place. “Toril, I take it that neither of you were expecting me to notice?”
The white-furred male examined the shield-like armour with a passive smile, his eyes taking a moment to register that he was the one being addressed. “Hm? Oh, yes. How did you know? We took great care in ensuring she did not present as such.” His focus waned as his attention returned to the equipment Pan donned. “The armour of your mate, is that a new metal? No... Wood. How did you process it? Who is the craftsman? May I speak with them?”
“Toril,” the Human disrupted when it seemed that Tersa wouldn’t do so in time.
The male focused again, the smile cracking for a moment before it reformed. “Apologies, I’m afraid I tend to get excited.”
Joseph nodded. “To answer your first question,” he started, placing his elbows on the desk. “She smelled like a Blade. Though, stopping you from drinking the water was the final thing I needed to confirm.”
Toril blinked. “Smelled like a Blade?”
“Blood,” The Grand Hunter answered judgmentally. “She smelled like blood.”
The male’s permanent contentment faltered as he frowned, his eyes scanning the air as he muttered to himself about chemical compositions. It quickly devolved into theoretical drivel that Pan couldn’t quite parse. It took a few seconds for the male to finish, his train of thought derailing several times before he paused. “No, that would not be correct.”
Pan could hear the amused surprise in Joseph’s voice, herself knowing that he was likely trying not to divulge that he could scent the ‘peppermint’ that Blades typically used. “Oh?”
“She has treated her fur many times to remove all scents. Were you to claim such as the reason, then perhaps I would have believed you. As it were, I can not accept that as an appropriate answer and request a valid one.”
Pan’s ear flicked as she watched Tel drop from the ceiling silently, a spin of her tail telling of great amusement in the situation, though her gaze lingered for a moment on the dyed-fur female. Joseph didn’t acknowledge her openly, his confidence growing as he stood, his paws placed firmly on the table.
“What if I told you it was the way she walked? The subtle shift of her eyes as she appraised us? The positioning she took to keep herself between us and you? The false confidence in her voice? The shit attempt to seem in control?”
With each question, Tel took a step closer behind Toril, the male being oblivious to the approaching female. His expression fell neutral as he considered the asserted notions.
“Tersa is rather proficient. I find it hard to believe you would be so familiar as to identify such.”
“Familiar?” Joseph laughed genuinely, his smile moving the mask enough for Pan to see a sliver of the expression.
“I would dare say he is,” Tel interjected, her amusement when Tersa jolted bringing a grin to her face. The grey-furred female slipped a quill out and placed it to Toril’s neck when the other Blade reached for her weapon, an unwavering stare taunting the visiting female to attempt something as she spoke. “He is Sheath to the heiress of Avalon. Any lesser Blade would be glaringly obvious.”
Toril blinked a few times, a paw casually confirming that he was indeed in some peril. “Trill’s kit, yes? Tel?” He looked over his shoulder, tilting his head to regard the new addition to the conversation as Tersa seemed to grow more uneasy. He waved a paw to dismiss her, the female reluctantly easing into her chair. “My, you’ve grown. I haven’t seen you since you were barely as high as my knee.”
Tel frowned, the amusement gone in an instant. “I’m afraid I do not recall you. Regardless, your Blade is unstable, Toril. Now is not the time for banter. Were it not for his wishes, your blood would colour your fur for allowing her the insolence of threatening to bear arms in my male’s presence.”
The white-furred male thought for a moment, glancing over at the fidgeting Tersa. “She is merely acting in my best interest, much as you would for your Sheath. She will refrain from further hostilities.”
Tel waited until the visiting Blade closed her eyes with regret on her face to accept the implied order, the heiress flicking her tail as she tucked the quill away. “No second chances.”
Toril nodded, seeming otherwise unconcerned about the predicament he found himself in. “Worry not, she is only concerned with my safety. We have no knowledge of the Blades that were afforded to you by Trill and could only assume they were removed. If you had seen fit to do as much to any in your domain, then she herself would be sent to the Void and unable to do her duty.”
Joseph grunted in understanding, his eyes peering through the mask to address the subdued female. “Bloodshed is something we try to avoid here, but we only need a reason.”
She looked at Pan as the translation was offered, exhaling in defeat after a moment. “I will give none if his well-being is ensured.”
“You’re pretty much fucked if you pull a knife, you know that right? I can stop Tel from stabbing him on a whim, but I doubt I can stop her reacting if you do something stupid. There is no ‘if’ right now.”
She snarled, baring her teeth. “One Blade means nothing.”
“More than one,” Scarlet corrected, her subservient aura remaining intact despite the threat. “You breathe because the master wishes it so. Do not take his generosity lightly.”
Tersa fell silent as she soaked in the assertion. “You are-”
“You are challenging the Blademaster of this domain. Though his benevolence may seem an infinite plane, the cliff is but a step away, and you will fall if you do not tread lightly.”
The female nodded after a prolonged silent stare, her hostility reduced to embers as she internalized that she was possibly outnumbered, though Pan could only confirm there was perhaps a single other Blade of the settlement nearby besides Scarlet and Faye.
The dark-red-furred female smiled politely, having delivered her warning. She re-positioned herself slightly, a paw within reach of one of her hidden armaments. Toril glanced at his mate, his smile returning. “May we continue?”
Tel looked to Joseph expectantly, the Human taking a breath before sitting down with a reluctant nod. The grey-furred female stepped around to place herself in a better position to react should it be required.
“Hm, you do look quite a bit like your blood-mother,” Toril commented as he eyed the grey-furred female, a slight furrow of his brow given as did. “I suppose such is why Trill asked Tersa to confirm the state of his Blades.”
“They are no longer his,” Tel retorted in a clipped tone, her patience running surprisingly short after her predecessor was mentioned.
“No matter,” the white-furred male dismissed as he waved a paw. “We would not expose ourselves for that which could be confirmed otherwise.”
“Anyway,” Joseph interrupted in annoyance. “You know we have them. Why are you here? Not every day a Grand Hunter walks into my home.”
Pan matched his tone, feeling the unease he experienced. Toril seemed lost in thought for a moment before nodding to himself.
“Well, to begin, and despite our initial claim, I am no longer a Grand Hunter.” He chuckled at the incredulous look he received. “My pack has been dissolved when a High Hunter of mine took issue. No pack, no station. I’m afraid that I have little more influence than your servants as it is.”
“So, what does that mean for the visit?” Joseph reiterated, though his tone had shifted to a curious one. Toril gestured to Tersa, the female keeping an eye on Tel.
“We require sanctuary. We were hosted under High Hunter Bratik for some time, but Trill was required to rescind such offers along with stripping the male of his rank.”
Joseph perked in his chair. “Bratik got demoted?”
“Exiled,” Toril corrected calmly. “It is quite unfortunate, but it is forbidden within the treaty to interfere with the internal affairs of another pack. Even if it is sheltering those of a conflict.”
“And you expect us to do as much?” Tel snapped, a claw hooking her roped dagger. Tersa seemed to shift so her own weapon was more accessible, Scarlet following suit. The tension grew for a moment before the white-furred male tapped his muzzle in thought.
“We are of a pack no longer, it seems, thus no repercussions would befall you if you were to assist us. We... What was the phrase he told us to use? Ah.” Toril’s smile widened, the male seeming pleased with himself for remembering.
“We seek the Guardian’s protection.”