Four months.

Four months prior, Tanglewood's sole medic vanished whilst her comrades slumbered. What happened to the vixen could only be discussed theoretically, for only two pieces of knowledge were only known for certain. A faint scent trail of swampy origin had been discovered leading outside of the group's forest border - and the rank scent of Pittian hung heavy in the trail's vicinity. The notion of the warbound tribe playing a part in her disappearance came as more than feasible, though without concrete evidence, no further action would be taken. Assuming that they were guilty in a sense, however, Kiira's seizure only came as one of many abductions perpetrated on the jungler dwellers' behalf. Time was the singular factor which halted the revenge process; when the time was absolutely right, Crow would give the go-ahead, and then their age-old enemies would finally get a taste of their own vile medicine.

Ideas about an upcoming raid were tossed around between him and the general with every interaction they had. If things all went to plan, the hound would end up nabbing Kiira and Sam as the rest of his group attacked from the front. He'd made his way into a Pittian camp before, so why not again?

-

Actually, change of plan.

As it turns out, the fatigued femme stood languidly within the bog's boundaries once again. Huge surges of relief were pumped by Leroy's heart, which had ached for Kiira's safety for the whole duration of her absence. He approaches the small formation of tribemates armed with a toothy grin. Sam had to be safe if Kiira had lasted that long. "You're safe now, Kiira," he softly adds, echoing an excerpt from Wormwood's dialogue. The child's malfunctioning speech reverberates around his skull, sending a multitude of Kiira-involved memories before she had gotten snatched.

Snatched. What else had they done to her?

"You're lookin' a li'l worse for wear," Leroy coos, taking her gaunt form into account, "how bad did they ya up?"