She probably shouldn’t ask that.

Why tempt it?

After she had finally gotten Rolfe to exit her home, with promises to bring Reika’s body to the pyre –another shitshow brewing!- she had gone to find Marf and Reika, only to discover that the girl was really, REALLY good at hide and seek and he had no idea where she had disappeared to. After turning the house upside down, they meet back in the living room, both baffled.

“Where can she be?” Lycana frets. Marf doesn’t get a chance to answer, as a few loud barks from Fenrir are heard from outside the house. They exchange glances and go outside, seeing the large black wolf staring at the house waving his tail. They look around, seeing nothing... Until a little peel of laughter makes them look up.

“I told Marf I was the best at hiding!”

There was Reika, peeking out from behind the chimney on the roof a triumphant grin stretching across her face as she looks down at them. They both gape up at her as she giggles at their expressions.

“How did she even get up there?” Marf questions Lycana, who shakes her head. “I have no idea.” she responds, wondering if her earlier thoughts had anything to do with this. “I think we just became parents...” Lycana looks at him. He stares right back. “Whoa, parents.... to that?” They both turn their gazes back to the roof where Reika waves at them.

“My world make you want to run yet?” she asks softly. She wouldn’t blame him. Dealing with supernatural creatures in turmoil, some hunting you, and an overgrown lycan pup was not for the faint of heart. “I’m still here, aren't I?” he tilts his head, a small smile on his face. Her lips quirk up, matching his, as she leans into him. He really was too good to her, she couldn’t ask for anyone better to be at her side among all the crazy, or to be her tag team partner.

“Eww! Are you two going to kiss?” the horror in Reika’s tone has them breaking apart as she pretends to gag. “Parenthood seems like it's going to be fun.” Marf remarks. “Let's just... get her down.” Lycana sighs.

After a hell of a time trying to get the young woman off the roof, that ended in Lycana hanging most of the way out the second-floor window with Marf making sure she didn’t fall out and break her neck, Reika was now safely planted in front of the television watching some sort of horror movie with him, while she brooded in a chair.

Lycana stared at the screen, not really seeing it as her mind rolled over what Rolfe had told her. Someone had attacked Dionysus. Most knew you couldn’t kill a God, working on the assumption it was someone who knew what he was, they had to have that knowledge. However, they could be injured, and he had been... grievously. Roland as well as he tried to protect Dion. The werewolf Alpha was barely hanging in there but they both had said the same thing.

They were wolves that claimed loyalty to Tius, by their own admission.

Who were in possession of supernaturally charged weapons.

Ironically, March Madness would be taking place in Las Vegas, where Dion was, and the wolves that survived were being held there. They wanted her to take a turn at trying to extract information from the attackers, and she had agreed. Normally, that matter would be dominating her mind, but right now she had to figure out how to have a funeral for Reika. Her eyes shift to the floor where the blond sits cross legged.

A very LIVE Reika.

She had an idea, but it wasn’t one of her finest. She knew someone who could give her what she was looking for... but for a price. Lycana slides a little lower in the chair, lines marring her brow. She hated owing someone, but she didn’t really think she had much choice in the matter with Rolfe set to be breathing down her neck if she didn’t deliver.

She eyes the two, enjoying their horror movie marathon. Perhaps if she made them popcorn, they’d be entertained long enough for her to go off on her mission and return without anything happening. The way her luck had been though?

With a sigh, she heads towards the kitchen, soon returning with a bowl full of popcorn that she plops down next to Marf. He grabs a handful without looking at her, and Reika scoots back to do the same. “I’m going out to get a dead body.” she states. “Mmhmm.” came the replies amidst the crunching. Okay then. She shrugs and leaves.

And returns, successful but damn... it had not been an easy task. But that, that was a story for another time. She enters her home to find both in the exact same position, but with an empty bowl. She glances at the screen, taking in the amount of blood and gore wondering if it was going to give Reika nightmares. She stiffens. Oh lord, she WAS a parent. She shudders.

“Reika, want to wear some of my clothes?” Lycana asks. “Whats wrong with mine?” she says, looking away from the television with a frown, before looking at her tattered attire. “Ahh... like, dress up?” Lycana was catching on to this parenting thing apparently, because Reika leaps up. “Oooh! Do you have anything rainbow? Or sparkly? Or with sequins?” Reika keeps chattering as she dashes up the stairs.

“Sparkles? Sequins?” Lycana mumbles weakly as she follows.

They had managed, after shoving about ninety percent of her wardrobe into the bathroom, Reika was happy and Lycana had confiscated the other woman’s clothes and used them for what she needed to. She tugs the sheet off her own bed and heads back down and out the door. Marf appears as she is struggling to bundle the dead body of a slight woman, with Reika’s clothing over her own, into the sheet.

“Shit... I didn’t think you meant an actual dead body.” he tells her as he approaches to help. “Anything less wouldn’t get past Rolfe.” she pants, as he steps in and finishes rolling up her awkward bundle. “Why the sheet?” he frowns at the name of the one he called ‘that prick.’ “Smells like her. Hopefully convincing enough.” Lycana step back and studies the human burrito. It would have to do.

Sometime later, the sheet wrapped body tucked into their ritual shroud was on the pyre, surrounded by fragrant bushels of pine fronds, heaps of flowers, and mounds of straw over the massive amount of branches and wood. Torches surrounded the area, one held at the ready by Lycana as she watches Rolfe and the rest of the pack approach.

“Alterum regnum trado in armis.”

She sets the lit end of the torch to the kindling, and it takes with a whoosh, flames greedily devouring the dried plants, surrounding the body with a cheerful glow. She launches into her incantations, sending ‘Reika’ from the mortal plane to the next realm, where her soul could rest with the legions who had gone before her. The entire time, she is aware of Rolfe’s eyes on her. No big surprise, that after she was done, and all had bowed their heads, he sidled up next to her. “You know I should have been the one to light it.” he says under his breath, an edge to his tone. She doesn't look at him as she answers. “As leader, it falls to me to make that decision.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but she continues. “And I needed to... I couldn’t save her from this fate, but I could do this for her.” He stops, not having an argument for that. They both stand and look into the orange glow before turning to the pack, shadows dancing upon their faces. Lycana passes the torch to Rolfe, who starts to tell stories of Reika. Light sobs can be heard as Lycana slides back towards the trees. Her part was done... and now it was the packs time to mourn.

With the dissention, it was for the best that she left as some blamed her anyway. She feels a twinge of guilt for it all. There was going to be a lot of explaining and making up to do when –if- she ever got all of this sorted away.

She melts into the darkness of the forest as Marf and Reika appear from the shadows to join her. They all stand, staring at the raging fire. “Did it fool Rolfie?” Marf quizzes her. “I don’t know... I hope so.” she sighs back. He hadn't seemed suspicious, but perhaps that was more out of a moral obligation not to make a fuss at a funeral. She glances to Reika who is wide eyed, entranced by the flames licking at the sky. A myriad of emotions cross her face, and Lycana suddenly has hope that this was triggering something within her. “Reika? Are you okay?” she prods gently.

The azure eyes widen, turning to face Lycana, her expression one of deep awakening, like her spirit had been roused from the depths. Life comes into her face, animating it with a smile as Lycana grows excited. Was this it? Was her mind returning. Reika’s mouth opens as Lycana leans eagerly in.

“I want s’mores.”

Marf chokes back a chuckle at Lycana’s visage, as she considers slamming her face on a tree trunk.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“My my, how the time does fly. In only a few days March Madness will be here, and I will be stepping into the ring once more. It wont be my most notable match. It wont be the most important match of my life. It wont be the most looked at match on the card. Hell, it probably wont even be the most interesting match. But what it will be, is one of the most satisfying match ups ever.

For me.

And that's all that really matters.

Can you hear that clock ticking Ash? Does it invade your every waking thought? Does it creep into your nightmares? Each beat like the thump of your heart knowing that the time is nearly upon us?

Little Miss Quinn will be putting one boot in front of the other down that ramp, each one bringing her just a little bit closer to certain doom.

The first bell will herald in the expiration of her career and the last... well, the last bell will come when there's nothing left of her to go on any longer.

From there her remains will be scraped off the mat, taped back together, and served up for Marf’s pleasure on coming following Warfare. The thought that our dearest Ash gets to play with us one right after the other is pure bliss! A wonderful chance for Marf to taste his revenge. And another chance for Ash. A second chance for her to prove herself....

To be worthless.

Ignominious.

Utterly impotent against the force that is the Dissentients, and the Left Hand. For as much as Ash runs her mouth about bringing us her best, and dealing with the Left Hand... she has nothing to show for it. Week after week we come for her, waiting for her to show us something, anything... and she appears to be oblivious to it all. As if pretending that the events never occured would negate them. As if we would lose interest and go off to greener pastures perhaps. Hate to break it to you Ash, but it wont be happening.

You lost that chance with the choices you made after leaving the group. For you see, you didn't just break ties with us... it was the actions, the flapping of your jaws, the impertinent dribble that was flung from your perfidious mouth that got you into all this trouble.

You bit the hand that fed you. More than once.

Like a misbehaving wolf pup that was indulged far too much by the Alphas. That is what you were Ash, a mere orphaned pup who came into the pack. Stumbling over her own feet as the rest tried to teach her the ways, how to be an actual hunter... instead of just playing at being one. Cossetted and coddled by the pack, rolling over to show their bellies as you bared your pitiful little teeth, to boost your confidence. To give you self esteem and make you think yourself worthy and tough. Pushing you into the world as we rallied behind you.

It went to your head, and the little pup wanted more, she wanted to be the only one, she wanted to reign supreme at all time. So she decided to try to take on the big wide world alllll by her lonesome. Except, it was a lot bigger and badder than she remembered, so she tucked her tail and scurried to find whoever would take her in... resigning herself to always being the omega, the weakest link, forever puttering along the fringes, dooming herself to being what she had viewed herself... whilst elevated among the pack.

The meek little castaway, content with the scraps of others.

You would talk about your desire to light things on fire... belts, your opponents, Jenny Myst... the world. For a short time you did. Where is that Ash? I’ll tell you... she doesn't exist anymore. She is just a figment of your imagination. She has dropped down into the void, crushed into obliteration, shattered into fragments unable to pull to the surface through your true lackluster form.

You let losses get into your head, records becoming more and more important to you like they are for so many around this company... the only problem is Ash, you did nothing about it. While most who that matters to train, fight, and work to improve you did not. You thought exercising your mouth would have the same results. You would cry and complain, point fingers, but never actually put forth the effort to do better the next time.

A cycle you seem cursed to repeat over and over again.

Your silence has made me despair of getting the Ash Quinn you claim to be in that ring, the Ash Quinn I deserve to go up against. The one who would actually give me a bit of a fight, instead of just being thrown towards me like a piece of carrion.

So, in turn... I will give you what you deserve.

No mercy.

I will not hold back on you Ash. I will bring you everything I have, and then some more. I will be hell bent on literally destroying you, not leaving much left for Marf to play with. Just when you think I’ve done it all, Ill pull another little toy out and show you a whole new realm of pain.

If you wont bring me her, I’ll try and FORCE her out of you.

You will either have to step up to the plate and fight back, or show just how pitiful you really are. At the end of the day, you will be nothing but a muddled heap of broken flesh at my feet, but I mean, perhaps you could at least add a little bit of interest to the whole damn thing, so you aren't completely humiliated. I’d guess kicking a sack of potatoes would get boring after awhile, for both myself and the fans.

Although I suppose all the blood will keep the morbid ones hanging around, instead of taking off to go grab some snacks as soon as your music hits. There will be a lot of blood spilled Ash... mostly yours, but I do hope you get a little froggy and maybe attempt to spill mine. Try to deliver some wow factor to whatever sad, lost souls remain on as your fans... even though they know it is useless to cheer for you.

Do you see all the whispering and looks Ash?

Do you see the pity crossing all their faces as you walk on by down the hallway?

Everyone knows how that match is going to go down.

They have some idea what's in store for you.

Its not going to be some big surprise. It is going to be brutal. For you anyway. I am going to be ruthless Ash, all the times we came out and you tasted our displeasure will seem like kisses from a feather pillow compared to this. My goal; nothing more than to put you down. I’d love to put you out, but I need to let my partner get a little piece of you for himself. Im really quite kind that way, don't you think? And you? Ha, well... I don't expect the moon and the stars from you lets put it that way.

Everybody knows that for as much as Ash Quinn runs her mouth, when the time comes to actually put actions to those words, she comes up quite short. Nearly nonexistant. All bark and no bite, as the cliche saying goes.

March Madness will be no different.

In a few days Ash, you will be left a bloody mess in that ring. You are going to regret the betrayals. You are going to taste the sour tang of defeat at my hands. You are going to learn just how much abuse a body can take.

You’re going to learn why you should never have crossed me.”