[Rita]

Paws carried her where they willed, and she did well to follow as she found herself traveling south and west, south and west. Every morning the sunlight bathed her in sheets of amber warmth, easing her from empty sleeps and dreams alike. As ambitious as she was, she also found a sort of hollow pride in treading through all sorts of terrain. As though, by merely passing through, she were laying some sort of half-assed claimed itself. A shell of her former self.

But for now she made her way to the decadent forests, brimming with life and early morning glory.

Silently she would assess the terrain, finding it rich in life, but the aura of its life could not mesh with her own. As much as she could acknowledge the importance of having a sustainable food supply and a healthy territory, there was also that terrible nagging deep inside - anything less than theatrical and intriguing would not settle. So she would find herself mingling through the woods, debris shifting under each step as the soothing ambience around her fell upon deaf ears. There was nothing here for her other than meat to fill and empty stomach and the peeking sun to warm her flesh; nothing more than a tool to fulfill her needs.

A fledgling robin stumbled down a winding tree as it attempted to follow its parents, weak and half-feathered wings flapping uselessly. The warning calls of its parents echoed above the beast, whose darkened gaze zoned in and focused on the easy prey. Before the fumbling babe could even make it to the ground, massive jaws lurched out and snapped shut with a sickening crunch. High-pitched screeches from the robins above rang in her ears, but their fury was naught to the wolf. Her tongue lapped and wrapped around the bite of flesh as she forced it down her throat in a messy swallow.

With a nonchalance that perhaps mocked the youth's death, Rita continued to weave between the trees, ignoring the birds as they fluttered and dove against her. Wickedly-flapping wings and pecking beaks doing nothing but irritate the predator. After a minute or two of her unintentional followers, the wolf would swing about and, with bared fangs and a deep, impatient grumbling, snapped her fangs once more, this time at the mortified parents. With terrified squawks they fluttered and fled, perching from afar to continue their verbal assaults.

The Mother who'd borne many claimed the life of one more child, today. 
Feathered or furred, what difference was there in her effect on them?

[Makoshark]

It was impossible to ignore the sqwaking that echoed through the trees and the shuffling of underbrush that accompanied it. The devil curved ears of the young Tortugan prince perked toward the din and his head tilted slighting in curiosity.

So far the forest had been relatively quiet, not giving those on their Voyage much to work with by way of proving themselves as useful pirates. So it was no wonder that Mako decided to investigate. Slowly the skinny boy wove between the trees toward the noise, making little effort to silence his steps. Didn't matter to him if he came up quietly, whatever was making all that noise wouldn't likely notice him anyway.

Of course the young boys mind raced with dangerous creatures he might get a good look at, and perhaps a chance to kill. It didn't occur to him that he might be too small to do much damage. Afterall, he'd already killed a shark and he wasn't even a year old. In truth it was hardly a great feat of strength as he only made the killing blow, and he had no part in wrestling the creature onto the shore... but children will be children and the event created a fanciful notion in the boys head that he was... invincible.

What he found, however, was no great bear or boar, but a wolf. A wolf with oddly familiar colors and two very angry birds making a ruckas overhead. Mako tilted his head a little at the sight of her before he finally spoke. "Ahoy..." he paused, his good eye glancing up at the birds once more, blind eye following uselessly. "You makin' em caw like that? Annoyin' lil shits, eh?" Ah, what a mouth for a boy so young.

[Rita]

She should have expected the horrible, warbling racket to attract attention, yet some part of her was still surprised to see someone else approaching.

And not just anyone else.
Someone... oddly familiar.

This young one bore too many similarities in appearance for Rita to just shake off the suspicions. But she stood unphased, still focused on the warmth in her guts from the recent kill. Well, as much as that tiny bite could be considered a kill. With a bit of her old, Captain-esque indifference, the mutt stood still, this stranger's arrival appearing to have little meaning to her. Little effect.

But her curiosity was peaked, nonetheless.
Golden eyes locked on the young boy, following him attentively.

"Ahoy," Suspicions rising even higher. Ears pricked just a bit, betraying her interest, "You making 'em caw like that? Annoyin' little shits, eh?"

A moment's silence would fill the air - save for the incessant bickering from the two robins - as she contemplated her actions. Her thoughts. Her words. With an audible, heavy sigh, the Pirate Queen would shrug, wearing a cloak of thick indifference, "Technically," Her tongue would lazily swipe over her lips, her nose, collecting the rogue remnants of blood, "it's their chick that's making 'em bitch and moan..." Or, more specifically, the death of their chick. But these were petty details.

Rolling her shoulders, Rita would face this youth squarely, this time not bothering to hide as she sized him up. Studied him. "Ain't usually seeing too many young kids running 'round here..." Had she still her empire, still her blazing throne, she would have been more direct. But years as a rogue forced coyness into situations, especially peculiar ones like these. A short grin spread on that wicked maw, trying to find its place, trying to reclaim its domain, as she held the boy's gaze. "You lost?"

What brings you, oh familiar-looking one, so far from where I think you're supposed to be?
Or was old Rita just connecting dots that did not exist...?

[Rita]

wee bump

[Makoshark]

The sweet surrender of silence forces me to live alone
Locked and loaded, where the hell is peace of mind?
I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue sea
I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue

"speech" | thoughts

 
Mako glanced up at the birds, then back at the large female. She lapped blood from her nose and he put two and two together. He paused for a moment before sitting down, ignoring the birds. If he could tune out his siblings when they fought, he could tune out some robins. A normal pup might be concerned that she had so heartlessly snapped up a chick, fallen from the nest. But Mako was a different sort of kid. There was something dark in him brewing. Something that had not yet raised it's ugly head. It was still only beginning to wake. "Hmm.. well it woulda died anyway. Fallin' from that high..." he shrugged, putting the incident behind him.

"Nah, not lost. I'm out on a journey. Gotta prove myself an' stuff," he grinned. There wasn't a whole lot he was allowed to tell her, because she was a stranger, but the basics couldn't hurt. "What about ye? I mean, we 'aven' seen too many other out 'ere. Ye look kinda familiar in a weird way." Not that he would have known who she was anyway. Tales of Rita were few and far between and he couldn't remember ever hearing about her from his family. Of course if she did tell him, he could put it all together... but would she? Mako had no reason to hide who he was... though Raikov might not have felt the same about that. Mako'd heard stories of his father's voyage, when they were attacked and almost taken by wolves from another pack. But the cocky young prince was sure that wasn't the case here....