The week had already started to drag along when she took that fucking drink. Her step-father's apparance had done little to calm her down- if only bringing her stress and self control up higher levels. It was just their luck- rahter - her luck that the tanglewood would try and poke- and prod at their border again.

The scent was fresh with blood- which either meant that Argus was missing the battle or it was someone trying to fool their way in. Beedy red eyes glared at the small spec along the tracks. Wings angling her down from her flight- and she landed with little fanfare.

Crimson orbs lit with the kind of sickened glee that she could express only to enemies. But the rest of her expression remained a tight control of apathy. "You smell like the enemy" It would be just like beck to try and widdle a spy into their ranks after such a battle. But the only thing pressing at her then was that the other wouldn't be careless about the scent if they were trying to spy. "What is your name, stranger?" For now that would have to do, at least until someone else could come as backup if the other decided to spring.

It was a natrual responce to someone there within the border with enemey scent to exicute on sight. The typhoon was a very different group than the others- in the fact that they didn't allow traitors into their own midst. Argus herself was very careful on who she trusts within the clan- as well as outside it.

Beck's recent raid left most of the clan calling for his head, but Argus was interested in something else about the leader. Spirits were very rarely ever caught as spirits. The few she knew were very open about the entire being dead thing. Yet Argus had never seen much of one taking control of a clan. She was due to visit them, if for her own interests sooner or later within the week.

However, here on the border of her own clan; she was a striker in charge of policing the clan. Being active enough not to throw off suspicion with how often she left the clan does tend to other people. Argus was already starting to make connections outside the clan. To hear how volatile Tanglewood was also proved only to encourage her to throw them into a frenzy.

Aa, the wonders of clan plotics.

"Well, we don't have much of an official medic here right at the moment. But I'm probably the most qualified at the moment to help." Which, probably wasn't the most settling thing she could say, but a downplay on her own healing abilities came naturally. Just because she knew how to heal didn't mean she wanted to be the clan's healer. She was much rather interested in the blackjack rats than to become to voodoo master or whatever they called it here.

"You said your name was Phobeus? Name's Argus. Welcome home." She offered a bright grin towards the other, full of sharp teeth and dull red eyes. "Now, let's see about you not bleeding out here on the border before i take you to the medical dens, ne?" Argus would walk a little closer, careful and deliberately giving him time to back up if he didn't want her to look.

The brand wasn't so much a burn scar as she was used to branding herself and more of the leader's name carved there. She pulled the bag hidden under her wing. gauze unrolling and There was nothing she could do at the moment without aloe. "Better yet, you want a lift there? Probably best to stay off that leg until we can treat it"

"I'd be happy to give him a lift if he needs it" a dark voice rumbled, the dragon had been lightly dozing nearby, taken to snoozing near the border as to be prepared - blending into the shadows cast by the large rocky hill like he'd belonged there and given his dark plating and that he'd had the vicious glowing red scarring upon his face angled away - the beast did appear invisible with his eyes closed and wings folded away.

but he shifted now, standing and looming over the two, cocking his head to Argus "Save your back the trouble" he mused before the silver-red dual gaze slid to Phobeus "This tanglewood sound like a bothersome lot" he did worry slightly, his son had decided to amble that way - well if they met on a battlefield they'd simply pick different opponents, these conflicts went by so quick to beings with long lives - its why it hurt all the more to loose a friend in such a struggle.

the dark one tilted his head, realising he hadn't given a name "ah, lucifer Grimm, a pleasure"