Oh, there was quite the acrid smell rising from these trees and the territory seemed to be altered in some way. Yes, of course, it seemed like a fire had blazed through this area and all that stood now were scorched trees and bushes stripped of bark and life. He found it unfortunate that such a lovely jungle had ended up like this but he had no doubt that the Volarians were likely still here, if not somewhere nearby. The Anatolian Shepherd stops a few feet away from the border, whoever decided to trail after him from the Exiles close behind. The Commander's azure gaze, after scanning the territory initially, finally settled ahead to see if anyone would approach them. The patrol would have to be patient, but the Leonidas reckoned someone would be along quickly enough - they always came running when the noted their scent permeated the area. So he turns to tell his patrol, saying, "Remember, we leave if trouble starts. We're not here to pick a fight." Afterwards, he falls silent and leans back into a seat.
★ ★ ★ Leonidas was right; someone always did come running. Currently that someone was Enjolras, and it was much more of a fast trot than a run. He was still weary from the effects of the fire, and he didn't share the pure hatred that most in his clan had for the Exiles. Of course, he knew they were enemies and would defend his clan to his death, but he was a man of peace first, and violence later. He had just treated an injured Cartelian at the border, so unless these Exilers were here to attack, he would do nothing to spark any aggression. He paused a good distance on the other side of the border, as if that would save him from an incoming attack, and greeted them. "Bonjour, I'm Enjolras. What is the reason of your visit?" His voice was flat, but he couldn't keep the tinge of curiosity out of it. So far, it seemed that had no intention of attacking, so he wondered what exactly they were here for.
★ ★ ★ Well, that was certainly not was he was expecting, but it did help explain their sudden arrival. Of course, if someone goes missing, you always look towards those you have an issue with. "Well I uh, definitely don't know who you are referring to," Enjolras hesitantly responded. It wasn't that he was nervous because he knew, he was nervous they wouldn't believe him, and he desperately wanted to avoid conflict. "No one has come here, especially since the fire." The serval forced himself to stay steady and exude some sort of confidence as he continued on in a move Kira would definitely smack him for if given the chance. "Could you give me their name? What they look like? I can always keep an eye out for them." Was he foolish for offering to help the enemy? Maybe, but he hoped that an offering of help would keep them from sending a full scale attack to them in their weakest moments.
"What possible use would we have for scum like yourselves?" he drawled as he approached, hostility in his voice but not in his actions. Yet. "Nothing on this earth could make keeping one of yours bearable in any capacity. Whoever it is- he's not here."
He had a zero-tolerance policy for enemies on the border. And, though he had learned from his mistake with Penny and now refused to attack without thinking first, it did not make his anger burst any less; it did not make the itch in his claws cease; it did not make his hatred for these creatures any less potent. Frankly, he didn't care that the Exilers were being civil- they had wrought horror on him and his clan; on Rohan, no less, the man that Kira valued above all things. Not that he hadn't royally fucked their 'relationship' over, though- he wasn't sure the last time the point had even looked at him. He waved that thought away quickly.
The scorched man turned his blazing lavender gaze on Nyria and Ivorybones. He couldn't give less of a shit that they were being civil. He'd seen them both in raids before; in fact, he was almost certain that these two were a part of the group to burn their birds. His tongue felt as thought it were coated in the same ash that now carpeted their jungle floor. And as Enjolras spoke up, he felt himself sour even further. Usually he would have trusted the serval to be smart in these situations (and perhaps he was, but Kira simply had a linear approach to everything), but this offering to an enemy of all people rubbed his flaxen fur the wrong way. His eye narrowed into a sharp chisel, ears perked forward; well, perhaps he could twist this in his favor, perhaps he could get a name out of it. See who was missing. And yet he already had such precious little patience for these strangers that he could not easily quell the anger rising in his limbs.
"Never mind it," he instructed his peer quietly, taking a breath as he inclined his head towards the Exilers just slightly, tail flicking dismissively. It was clear he had no intentions on listening to whatever pleas they made. He'd had his fair share of them lately, between raids and captures and the gathering, he'd had his fill of Exilers for the rest of the year, really. He just wished they'd leave him alone long enough for him to regain his patience. But... that wasn't likely to happen.
"It's in your best interest to leave now," he advised the pair then, but whether they heeded his words or not would lead him down two different paths of action.
✧ Sleepy had followed behind Enjorlas, from a slight distance to not annoy him, like a strange pink ghost. She still doesn't know her way around the camp, still doesn't have a clue how she got here, still is unsure of if she can bring herself to leave. The curling smell of smoke that clings to everything and everyone doesn't help her compass1 herself at all. Adding to her confusion now as she peers around the border, is a new group scent, one of foreign lands and blood.
They want to find someone, and it makes her heart ache; Sleepingpaw has lost someone herself, too, though she can't remember who. She still hasn't figured out if that makes her tragedy lesser or greater, but it makes her sympathetic all the same. Her pink maw parts to speak and before she can Kira, the second face she can place a name to, speaks, and speaks unkindly. ...Are these bad people? That has to be it. Why else would Kira be angry at them?
She hesitates before she speaks, looking between the two parties of two and feeling drawn to both. "...I'm sorry for your loss," is all she can offer in that quiet voice of hers. Her whole frame seems to be caught in indecision, but Kira has to know best. Why else would he be the leader?
———— KOLA HARBRINGER ————
WE'LL HAVE THE TIME OF OUR LIVES TONIGHT
Oh, who were these people? Taking a spot next to her father, the serval would look at Ivory and Nyria with curiosity. Then, hearing Kira call them 'scum' and whatnot, she knew who they were. "I hope you find who you're looking for... But you should take his advice," the female responded, and the 'he' was in reference to Kira. She wouldn't want to get on Kira's bad side, and it looked clear that they were.
Ivorybones tilted his head towards the Volarians that arrived, his brows slowly raising at the first one. Nyria was quick to answer though, and merely nodded in confirmation. However, whatever relative "peace" they had didn't last for long as the Flight's hostile leader arrived with venomous insults upon his barbed tongue and the Leonidas has to crinkle his nose at the burned man for his attitude. Though he couldn't say that he didn't expect no hostility between them - they had just recently brutally murdered their birds, after all - but he figured it was a bit uncalled for in this scenario.
"A simple 'no' would have sufficed." The Anatolian Shepherd sighs, fictive brows bunching together upon his forehead. Then, to the much more helpful Volarian that had approached them first. "It doesn't matter now. Your leader has already spoken - don't bother." Ivory could sense the hidden malice in Kira's form and they would do good to heed the feline's message. After all, they were fairly outnumbered even if the both of them were experienced fighters. It would just be a waste of time to initiate unnecessary conflict. So, Ivory clicked his tongue, azure eyes narrowing ever so slightly upon the form of the Crowned Eagle.
"We have ways of figuring out if you have who we are looking for, and if you do you can guarantee that we will come and retrieve them." In that underlying threat was a promise, formed firmly upon his tongue as he begins stepping away from the border with a huff. "Come on, Nyria." He told her as he began passing by her to leave the burned jungle, his expression set and stony.