It had been a while since Sweeney had seen her best friend, him having left some time ago to go back to the place he had been born at. Sweeney had known that he would leave her eventually, the thought having occurred more than once when his mother had risen from the grave, though she knew it wasn't permanent. Atticus had promised that if anything happened to him and if he was in danger at all, he would come straight back home to the Pitt. She knew how the other groups thought and dealt with those that resided in the desert, and hadn't though that they would take too kindly to the boy whom had run away from home.

She'd be surprised just how wrong she had been when she would find out later, what, exactly, had happened in the few weeks he had been gone.

Coming to a stop beside the border of the swamp, the kitsune would wrinkle her nose slightly at the smell, the soft tinge of the marsh mixed with something else, something that was slightly familiar though she couldn't put her finger on it. Little did she know that it was the familiar smell of the group that Stryker had come from, and having only met him once she hadn't put it too much into her memory.

For now though, Sweeney would put it out of her mind, and she would simply sit down, trying to remain calm and seem as though she was no threat. Of course, she hadn't come here to cause anything but she herself had been born in the Pitt, so any grudges those in Tanglewood would have were more or less targeted towards her - especially with her last name - than they would have been with Atticus. "Hello?" She would call out into the quiet swamp, "My name's Sweeney... I'm Atticus's friend. I just wanted to see him." To make sure he was okay.

It seemed fate grew kind to the dark vixen.

Unknown she or the prior instances the hammering best of the war drum had been directed towards those she deemed her own, mere casualties some beneath the serpentine usurper, others lackies. Hands switches, loyalties forged with another upon discarding the ivory monarch, deep running the foul taint in deserts edging the ensnared swamp. Had he known may have caused no difference, yet such kindness was at least extended as her voice rang forth.

Solitary his placement among those few residents, numbers meagre and further thinned, prisoners and injured alike dealt with in manner that did not permit prying eyes for bargains may be struck with their lives. A stranger, even as another within them bore only a welcoming disposition, her word not enough as he proved unmoved by their plight. This was not his own fight, that which raged across terrain he had been reared upon his own, yet far was he now, adrift with only Elsweyr to anchor him.

Taken to was the cheetah with wandering the edges bordering secluded town, watched with disdain and interest, some possibly pondering how he may be dispatched or turned, ignored all. The voice he could not not, however, head arising, about rounded ears swivelling. His trek through the dense land plagued by humidity that stubbornly clung, even now as winter drew closer, uneventful, strained hearing picking up on minor shuffling, undergrowth disturbed by small creatures. No meagre scrap that Khajhad came upon, alight honey hued eyes with intrigue, distance still permitted as he assessed the other.

"She is bold." Light the mirth that toned words spoken through frown. Though heeded the perimeter that announced to those who cared to take note this land was owned still had her presence been called forth, open her position, unafraid and even serene. "This one does not know who she speaks of." Truthful his words, new to this land the predator and thus the one who bore the name Sweeney spoke was an unknown. "She is not of the swamp, yes?"

code by Reggan

NOTHING BESIDE REMAINS — It was true that Tanglewood had a habit of holding grudges, especially against those that had lived out in The Pitt. Especially when it came to the few who were the children of Jervis, Tanglewood's former tormenter. Aurum was no exception to this rule, having held a grudge against The Pitt and all those that dwelled within it for a long time. Despite this, he found that he couldn't summon up any rage about Sweeney being here. It would've been hypocritical for him to hate all Pittians anymore, considering Atticus was technically one of them. And even if Sweeney was one of Jervis's daughter, she had come claiming that Atticus was her friend. Truth be told, Aurum had a very hard time believing that his nephew would've befriended the fox if she was just as bad as her tyrannical and insane father. It was because of this that the angel's gaze held no sense of wariness or anger as he approached the border that day, coming to a stop beside Khajhad. Instead, his one blue eye contained only remorse, and a sense of pity for Sweeney and the news he would be forced to give her.

After allowing Khajhad to speak, the African lion cleared his throat, eye trained on Sweeney as he spoke, "I'm sorry to say that you can't see Atticus, Sweeney. And not because of any of us." Flicking his tail back in the direction of camp, Aurum began to speak in a snarl, although it wasn't directed at the gulping, instead focused at the Coalition, "Even we don't know where Atticus is. These bastards... the Coalition of the Condemned. They're led by Stryker, and they've essentially taken the entirety of Tanglewood hostage." Tail still lashing and a sense of guilt in his blue gaze, the male continued, "We tried to stage a revolt. So that Atticus could go and tell The Pitt and The Typhoon about what was happening, and ask for help. But he was caught... since then, we haven't seen him. We don't know what Stryker has done with him." His words were rather straightforward, but that was because they needed to be. If he hesitated too much, then he was sure he would break down, either in fury or remorse. — OF THE MAN WHO WAS BORN AND DIED A KING.

Overwhelmed by the smells and the sights of strangers that came forth to the border, Sweeney watched and listened as they spoke. Confusion on her face as the first to arrive spoke to her, saying they didn't know Atticus. She didn't want to hear that, didn't want to know that he wasn't around Tanglewood enough to greet those around those that were new there. He wasn't the friendliest individual - most in the Pitt weren't - but it was rare for someone who had travelled so far to not show up at the border every so often to greet those that were new to the groups, to make sure they could be trusted during their stay.

Then Aurum came, a face she recognized slightly from him showing up at the border when the dog had been there, when she had been younger. She had pretended to be the leader of the Pitt, that was so long ago, so many leaders ago. He spoke and she began to feel her world crumble underneath her. Stryker was here, the coalition that damned lion had spoken about when he had been at the border of the Pitt, he was there and they had taken over, and they had taken Atticus. He had been on his way home, and he had gotten taken. "No," She would speak, ears pinning to her head as tails lashed behind her, "You're lying, you have to be. He wouldn't get captured." He wouldn't leave me.

And then he was there, leaping out from the underbrush that surrounded the area, and at first she was relieved, and then she saw his face, and heard the hissing noise that came from his throat, felt the claws digging into her sides, and for the first time in a very long time, tears began to form in Sweeney's eyes as her mind raced. What was she supposed to do in this situation? She didn't want to hurt him, didn't want to try. "Atticus, please." The vixen begged, "You're hurting me. I don't wanna hurt you."

At this point in time, she would bring her back paws forward in an attempt to kick up, trying to knock Atticus off of her. Anything so she could get up and try to subdue him without harming him.

NOTHING BESIDE REMAINS — No. Aurum had known that Stryker had done something with Atticus. It would've been impossible for him not to know, considering the way that the kingpin was flaunting it at his little "meeting." However, he hadn't been expecting this. He had figured that Atticus was chained up somewhere, kept prisoner and starved or tortured. It was a gruesome and upsetting thought – and one that made the lion want to kill Stryker even more – but at least it wasn't this. At least it wasn't his nephew, brainwashed and powerless, attacking someone who had formerly been known as his friend. With a wash of ice cold agony passing through him, the former proxy found himself muttering desperately as he stepped forward, "Atticus, no. You can't do this, you have to snap out of it. For your family. For her." He would've tried to remove the other from Sweeney himself, but he didn't want to hurt Atticus in the process. It would've been difficult for him to yank the other away gently, and he didn't want to hurt his nephew – Moth was already furious at him for having him end up here in the first place.

Unfortunately, Aurum wasn't given much time to contemplate what to do next. Instead, Atticus abruptly stepped back, only to be replaced by Stryker. Heart beating wildly and rage flaring up in his chest, the lion found himself snarling at the kingpin, "Get the fuck away from her, you no-good, two-bit clown." He didn't know what exactly Stryker was doing, but it didn't take much to put two and two together, and see that the other was manipulating her somehow. Wanting to break the other lion's focus, Aurum took a large stride forward, attempting to clamp his flaming jaws down on the side of [member=1738]Stryker[/member]'s neck. He would try to dig his teeth in as deep as possible, trying to clumsily hit an artery. He knew that, as always, the Tanglers present were severely outnumbered, but he couldn't just stand back and do nothing. Even if he didn't know her well, Sweeney was clearly in need, and if Atticus trusted her, then Aurum didn't want her to be harmed. He didn't care how much he would inevitably end up suffering as a result of his own actions. It wasn't as if he had much to lose, anymore. — OF THE MAN WHO WAS BORN AND DIED A KING.