Ni neart go cur le cheile.....

[Starrlight]

It had been a moon, but it felt as though only yesterday, too vivid to be a dream, but too horrible to be real. There were days when he could take it, and days when he couldn't. Today, it gnawed at him, the anger and frustration crying out for release. His body practically hummed with tension and fury, seeking a faut, someplace to tear out and give vent. He would not deny it, and it would last a brief time before once more he was able to control his emotions and bring it to bear. He was alone, at least for now, and he would speak his piece. The bitterness and anger that had been building itself up for days, like a wave rolling in, finally was breaking on the shore.

Nuada's eyes flashed, and his voice rose as he laid his blame on those who supposedly controlled this world, it's crescendo heedless of the surrounding earth. His audience was with those who did not dwell on this plane, and he would make damn well sure that they could here him. "Why do ya even pretend to care? Up there in yer heavens, yer dwellin place of stars 'n empty darkness. Ye are creatures of air and wind, not even to be called alive, yet ye claim to know how wee mortals such as meself feel. Yer wrong. There's no way, neither on this Earth on which I stand, nor in those heavens in which ye yerself dwell, that ye can know that which I am goin through right here, right now. So come. I dare ye. Strike me down. Call me out for my blasphemy. Smite me to the hell which I now know I deserve. But don't pretend to care." Nothing. No response. Not that he was expecting one.

"Nuada!" The silence was broken by a shout, though not the reply that the bru was seeking. He turned to the approaching fem, anger still lingering in his bearing. She was glaring back at him, her own eyes accusing, boring into his matching emerald gems. They could have been siblings, but in reality, there was no blood between them. Only a lifetime shared. Perhaps this was why he could read her disapproval, and why it irked him so at this moment. He felt the need to blame, to cast his grief on all around him. This was why he cursed the gods, and why he cursed her now.

"Don't ye dare start on me, Kaelyn! I know that's yer intent, and I'll not listen to it. Obviously ye don't understand either, but then again, how can ye! I loved her, Kae, and now she's gone! I'll never gain that time back, ye hear, never!" He was shouting now. "Not for as long as I live! I shoulda died with her!"

"She was my friend too!"

He heard her voice crack through the anger, and when he looked more closely, there were tears gathering in her eyes, causing them to spark and glimmer as though formed from emeralds rather than mere flesh. "I loved her as well, as much as you at least, and I'll be damned if I let you say differently, Nuada Setante! Dinna dare accuse me of not carin', for ye aren't the only one who lost yer best friend! Sure, ye could have stayed, and been killed as well, and now ye'd be lyin out there along with her. Is that what ye want me to say? Do ye think that's what she'd want?" Her cheeks sparkled where the tears had left trails, and Nuada felt as though he'd been slapped. He had known Kaelyn since before he could remember, pups together in the den, and he had never seen her cry, not once. Her head lowered, and for a moment, she was silent, controlling her emotions once more. Ever the strong one, Kae was. When she spoke again, her voice was softer.

"Nu, bhráthair, ye can't give up. Neither of us can. Life is hard, but we do what we can, and when things such as these happen, we survive. We keep goin, and we live another day."

The silence after this remark seemed deafening, both of them brimming with unsaid emotion, the situation awkward at best. For a moment they stayed as they were, Nuada looking at Kaelyn, while her own gaze remained glued to her paws, as though their surface contained some secret that could rid them of this distance that seemed to spring up of it's own accord. Finally, Nuada broke the spell, for even the birds seemed to have paused in their song. "Come on, we've a ways to go yet."

It seemed that, the farther they progressed from their home, the duller the landscape got. It was as though a filter had been laid over the earth and sky, gradually draining the color and life, sating some carnal appetite for beauty. It was a far cry from the voracious greens and blues of the Irish meadows, and Nuada felt a fresh wave of homesickness. He found himself yearning for the scent of heather, the crags and yellow wildflowers, the neverending hues and expanses. Here everything seemed so dead, and every sense felt muted, even the birdcalls hushed in the midafternoon air.

It wasn't as though they were given a choice, as no sane creature would leave the paradise of their homeland for this barely adequate wasteland. it was an unfortunate time to be a wolf in the Isle, however. man, the wild wolf's only enemy, had been becoming an increasingly hungry force, tearing apart the wilderness in it's quest for power. Ruled by supersition, they erected their houses of worship, spilling blood whilst singing of righteousnous. The wolf was a symbol of freedom, release and instinct, all traits that by the standards of extreme religion made them demons. Thus they were feared, and thus they were hunted. What was once a story, told to scare whelps in the den, was now a reality. Nuada, Kaelyn, and Sorcha realized this, though they seemed the only ones able to accept it in its entirety. The horrors of the lands around them had no effect on their homepack, and so they fled alone. What creature of nature can stand agains the ultimate predator? However, they left too late, spent too long trying to convince their families, as well as those who had raised and loved them as kin. Kaelyn and Nuada escaped just as the dogs came... Sorcha never made it out, shot down in the attempt to follow.

Nuada knew that he would be haunted by images of his past for the rest of his years, though they may fade with time. His parting with Sorcha had ended with no farewell, but at least it had been swift, adn they had loved to the end. his father, hwoever... Nuada could see him as he closed his eyes, disdain and anger etched on the bru's visage as he disowned his only son, naming him a cowards for wanting to save them all. Bitterness welled within him even now, just thingking about it, and a profound sense of loss. Everyone they had known was surely dead now, including his father. He would never have closure. He would need to learn to deal with that fact.

Kaelyn could tell that her companion's thoughts were not in the here and now, and she understood the feeling. Her own mind was running on overdrive as well. She was tactfully shying away from past recollections, however, her thought line more pertaning to one simple question... Where the heck are we? It was getting hotter, and they had been keeping a steady pace for what seemed an endless spance of time. The hypnotism of hte trip was lending them speed, however. Hours would stretch on in silence, both of them so turned inwardly that neither noticed the passage about them. Weariness working in an unusually aiding manner.

It was the scent that first clued him in. It smelled... green. verdant. Like home. He took a deep breath, and for the first time in the past few hours, took note of his surroundings. It was astonishing the way the land had changed, so much so that they must have been mocing faster than he had initially thought.

"Kaelyn. Kae, look."

It was a paradise, very unlike where they came form, but for a moment, it had seemed the same. Lush greenery, but the humidity was heavy, and the heat more than they were used to. "Where is this place?" Kaelyn was gazing about her, eyes wide.

"I don't know, but it doesn't matter. Take a scent... it's already been laid claim to."

He was right. Scenting the breeze, she could taste the unmistakeable line on her senses, and imediately her instincts told her to turn around, go back. They had no right stepping a paw on this ground, for hte laws of the wolf are unmistakeable, and they were in no shape to be facing off to a defensive Alphaess. "I say we follow the border, see what we find."

"Sounds fine t' me." Nuada took the lead this time, and no longer running side by side, they stayed true to the border. There was an understanding between them, a sort of unspoken rule, that when the time came, he would lead, and she follow. It wasn't that she felt him better... that was hardly the case. She just know that she could not even begin to deal with such a role as leadership. he had always been the steady one, true and friendly, easy to get along with. She, well, a bit less than that at least.

It was dusk when they reached the end of hteir travels, arriving finally at the end of one territory, the start of another. Here the air held less humidity, thus the land was less intense, more like home at least than the past, foreign region. The mountains were barely visible in the distance, which probably accounted for the change. The rain shadow of the range only extended so far, and they were at the end of it, if they had known such a thing, that is. Nuada gazed at the trees before him, smiling. He looked then at Kae,who nodded. After weeks of travel, they had found it. Weariness forgotten, they took off as one into the depths of the trees, heading in a straight shot for the center of the territory, a sense of euphoria surrounding them. The sorrow that had plagued them was, for a short time at least, forgotten, and Kaelyn laughed, breaking the silence. "It's perfect!" She looked at him, and her gaze grew a bit more serious as she shlowed down. "Tis not the Isle, but it's close as we will get, I feel." She smiled once more. "It's your own land, Nu. Danu has smiled upon us."

He looked at her for a moment uncertainly, unbelieving that his lack of faith these past weeks would have led to such a happy new beginning. He had never taken a lead before, nor was he bred for such a thing. It wasn't desitny, nor fate, nor even bloodright, as so many others could claim. But somehow it felt right. Lifting his head, he took a deep breath, powerful throat expanding. Muscles rippled as he released his call, no hesitation left now, lost in the thrill of the song. It lifted over the trees, flowing out on the winds to whomever may hear and follow. It's tone was fierce, wild, and joyous, adn told a tale of discover, but also of warning. let the neighbor rule her lands, but let her stay where she belongs, and let all others who seek dominance turn away. Already his blood was racing, the power of hte Alpha wolf writing itself inside of him. The King had finally arrived.

[Asphyxia]

If you never try, you'll never know...[/size][/color]

"Look here, kid. You'll want proof before you go acting vigilante. Now, why don't we say ya'll follow me and help me look after her and if she follows, that is proof I have done nothing wrong? What say you?" It was how they had come to travel together. How they had decided it would be best to travel together. After Ozymandias had assumed Roman had attacked the coyotes and was soon trying to do so with Rumor, he needed a way, without Rumor speaking, for the other male to realize Roman had not been deceiving him. Acoustics shifted forward upon the brutes skull, his gait awkward as he limped upon his left foreleg, spheres narrowing to the distance ahead of them. Ozy had been quick to accept his offer, though probably more for the female than for himself, Roman mused silently. Plume swung gently behind his frame. The large, old male didn’t need to gaze behind himself to know Rumor was trailing them, though she never did so closely. The small fae stayed at a distance, constantly. Cocking his crown slightly, an aud shifted back against his skull, listening intently for the ever-lasting sound of her paws scraping the earth behind the two males.

Upon not having been able to get near Rumor, it seemed to Roman that the male had become content with keeping an eye on Roman, more than Rumor. Did he still assume Roman would attack or had he made a new friend, unawares? Perhaps Ozymandias had simply taken to Roman’s way of thinking. She was far more comfortable if they didn’t push the female to be friends or talk and it seemed she came a few feet closer to them as each day passed. Though, it could be his old imagination playing tricks on him. Slowing to a halt, the large hessain knew he needed to rest his aching legs. Having all the extra weight on his right foreleg was making it sore and it was awkward for him to maneuver the lands easily without his left leg. Brows furrowed slightly, though he quickly straightened his features out before his large muzzle swung ‘round to glance to Rumor. “Ya’ll keeping up back there, little lady?” When he saw her crown lift to listen to his words, he let a smile tug apart his lips, his gaze shifting to Ozymandias with a nod.

“Y’see, Ozymandias? I tell ya, that little lady there comes closer to us with each day, I do. Looks to me that she is slowly growing more comfortable with us. What say we rest a moment? My legs are aching from all this walking on but three.” His tongue slathered his lips, his body slowly lowering to the ground at the base of a large tree in the shade. The males thick mane of white fur billowed out slightly, much like a scarf, his neck gently lowering into the even folds of pelt to relax himself, legs stretched out as he dipped his muzzle slightly to lick at his wounded foreleg. Lifting his skull slightly to look to Ozymandias, Roman tilted his crown, acoustics straining forward. “What say you tell me more of those life stories of yours as soon as we’re walking again? I enjoy listening to these stories, friend, and I’m sure the little lady grows more comfortable and familiar with us through our conversations, yes I am.”

With a sigh releasing itself from his large barrel-like chest, the male closed his eyes momentarily for a rest, though, he drifted off fairly easily into a nap, knowing that either of the other wolves would keep an eye out and alert him to danger, and positive they had an easier time on this journey then he did. At least in physicality. In mentality, he wondered just how tough these things were on Rumor and the new friend, Ozymandias. As his spheres finally peeled open from his nap, the old man glanced around to be sure both wolven were still close at paw. He cared for the young female as if she were his own daughter and was growing to enjoy the company of another adult male. Upon spotting Rumor, he let that smile pull at his lips. They would head out again soon. Shifting his gaze to Ozymandias, he spoke softly, words but a whisper, in hopes he would not concern Rumor with such words. “I have thought on it and there is a pack just over yonder. If I am correct, a King has only recently staked claim to it and is seeking other individuals to join. I think a pack would be a much more stable and healthier environment for Rumor.”

As his grin disappeared, plume curling at his hind-legs, the male searched Ozy’s spheres for a bit, pondering what thoughts the male might have on this and whether he would object or not. “I think if she grows familiar with wolves, a family, so to speak and familiar with a place to call home, she might eventually come out of that shell. Still, she speaks not a word and I hope she does soon so I might learn of what has happened to her so I might help her overcome it. I’d like your thoughts on it, however.” After a moment of silence, and plenty more thought, Roman made up his mind for him, though he left it open to discussion and objection by the other male. “Way I see it…” He said as he slowly pulled his old bodice from the ground, his oversized body towering in comparison to Rumor’s lithe little chassis. “Is that we can go look anyway. If either of us don’t like it or feel it’s better for her if we leave, then we can. But we need food and shelter from the storms, we do. There is very little for offer here.” Giving a lop-sided, but serious grin to the other wolf, Roman shifted his weight as he lifted his aching paw and turned his skull to gaze upon Rumor. Giving a nod in the direction they were heading to indicate they were moving on once more, his plume gently swinging again, Roman waited intently for the stories he hoped to hear more of.

It was when they reached the pack borders that Roman began to wonder on the two scents he found here. Would they be accepted? Would Rumor, with so little to offer a pack? Roman knew he would have to introduce her and knew she would probably stay out of sight, but he was eager to find her a place to call home. The chilly call that slashed through the trees alerted Roman to the direction of the two wolven. Glancing from Ozy to Rumor, he sighed before treading forward through the undergrowth to enter Tuatha De Danann. Talons pulled up small plants and soil. Here, it was warm. But it felt like a place that could easily be called home. Acoustics tilting forward as he approached the clearing to where he found the two wolves, Roman let a smile pull at his lips. Rumor would hide, he was sure of it, but she would stay where she could see him or Ozy and she would stay within hearing distance, to be sure.

“Hail, wolf. Might I be facing the King and Queen of these lands?” Pausing, Roman waited for Ozymandias to come into the clearing before continuing. “It is difficult not to appear a threat with two other wolves at your side, but I assure you, we are nothing of the sort. I look for a place to call home and to offer any skills I have that may be needed.” As his gaze shifted from one to the other, he was quickly judging what they were like in personality. They seemed different. Almost polar opposites. The man seemed a man who was quick-thinking, kind and just. However, not short of a temper that could cause him to act before thinking. It didn’t set off any warning signals to Roman, however. With the female, she appeared very sure of herself and confident. Definitely a woman that could handle herself but she didn’t appear one that would wrongly act against another either. “I am Roman Andres. I am sure my fellow companion here may speak for himself, however, there is a female I wish to introduce you, but fear I cannot.”

Frowning slightly, he continued, sure if he explained a bit on the situation to this King, he would be more accepting of a stranger who snuck around in his lands. “Her calling is Rumor, though I know not of any last name. She doesn’t speak and she is very frightful, particularly of strangers. I urge you to please not push her, though you may attempt to approach her if you so wish, though I believe she will run. I do not know of her past, but I am trying to help her and believe that a home… Somewhere she can call home… Somewhere familiar, may help her further to coming out of that shell.” Finally, ending his speech which he doubted was truly required, but more honest and appreciated than anything, Roman slowly reclined upon his haunches, his muzzle dropping in a quick and appreciative bow. Acknowledgement of the authority before him. How would Rumor and Ozymandias act however?

Roman

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[Asphyxia]

Lights will guide you home.[/size][/color]

Curtains peeled apart to the blinding glare of a bright, sharp white light. Lips curled at the sheer ferocity with which the light hit her eyes, nearly blinding her and forcing her eyes to water profusely. Talons extended, attempting to grasp onto something, anything, but there was nothing. Everything was white here. White and silver. Like the clouds of day and the moon of the night. The cold, hard surface beneath her side sent shivers raging through her body, forcing it to shake violently, but only briefly before there was no movement at all. Still, she could smell, see, feel, hear. Her tongue. It was still able to move. Slowly, it slipped against the roof of her mouth, making her body shudder at the mere violence of sandpaper against flesh. Wiping the dry tongue across even dryer lips, she attempted to glare upon those who treated her thus. What had they done to her? She was in the same place as before. Still they did as was routine. Compiled her full of tests, medicines, products, machines. The pain was unbearable most of the time, depending on what they did. But she anticipated it every day.

Sickening as it was, she began to look forward to it. It made her feel. And to feel something was better than nothing at all. The creature was a pathetic excuse for a predator at this point. She knew very little of family, of predator society, of the two-legged creatures that tortured her and even very little of her own kind. A sharp, quick pinch extended into her shoulder, causing a quiet whimper to escape her lips. It was one of their long needle machines. They used it to run tests on her a lot. She had also discovered that it was that with which they made it so her limbs could not move. It was the needle that she feared the most. That sharp object that pinched its way through her flesh and made its way into her body. Their jumbled words, she could not make out. They spoke quickly, in large words she didn’t understand, a jumble of words that she simply could not string together to make a complete set of lyrics. Even if it meant her life. She felt spindly arms slip under her body and lift her from the cold surface of the steel-top table. They were carrying her somewhere now. Even as her spheres shifted to stare upon the man that had done these things to her, as she met his eyes, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to die or to kill him.

Shifting her weight, the tiny she-wolf tipped her crown slightly, her belly to the grass as she kept a close eye on Roman and Ozymandias. This man… Why had he assumed that Roman had been attacking her? It had been her fault, hadn’t it? For appearing so… What was it? Frightened? She was terrified and she didn’t mean to be. The small wolf wanted to be able to speak to them and to get to know them. But ever since Roman had approached her, it was like her throat had completely swelled and closed. Now all she could do was breathe and try to keep down her rapid heartbeat. She’d killed the coyote. Rumor didn’t know that she could do such a thing and was terrified she would be in trouble for it. More terrified she would be in trouble for not helping Roman and even more so that the coyotes were the dogs of the two-legged men. Why had Ozymandias decided to help her? And why had he assumed position of following them? When he had tried to approach her, Rumor had been quick to shuffle back with her belly to the ground, plume tucked between her hind legs, her canines glinting beneath slightly curled lips. She didn’t trust him. Didn’t trust any of them.

Acoustics flattened heavily against her skull, spheres shifting from Ozymandias to Roman. Ozy had moved off and not forced her to remain near him. Rumor still wasn’t sure if she would have attacked him or not if he had persisted. At Roman’s words, her crown lifted slightly to listen carefully, having barely caught his words. Was he laying down to rest? As Roman lowered himself to the ground, the lithe fae shuffled away into some bracken, ducking down into the bush to hide out until they decided they would leave. Her crown lay on the dirt outside of her tiny little haven, showing Roman she was still around and keeping the corner of her eye, as slyly as possible, on the two males to ensure she didn’t lose sight of them. She heard ‘little lady’ but not much more as a sigh left her chassis. Shifting her weight to get more comfortable, the female frowned about her flank. It no longer bled profusely, but she continuously peeled it open again by her movements. It was scabbed over and she had been lucky, for the tiny, sharp object had skidded across her leg and not landed in it, leaving but a flesh wound. Easily healed in her opinion. After so many tests and wounds, Rumor was used to pain by now and took it as it came.

As she came to, her crown lifted from the cold table top. Where were the humans? They had left the room? Gazing around, Rumor spied the doorway. Glancing from the doorway to the kennel where they kept her, she quickly looked to the weird objects attached to her body. Slowly, she lifted her aching chassis from the table, tugging off the cords from her dampened coat. They hadn’t expected her to awaken yet, had they? Swinging her muzzle in their direction, toward the office on the opposite end of the lab, the wolf slipped, her claws sliding her across the table and sending her crashing down upon the table top. Her legs had been too wobbly and using mostly claw on a smooth surface, she had lost her footing. But the loud bang as the table quickly tipped with her weight on one end of it alerted the humans to her awakened state. The two men rushed from the lab, running toward her to capture her. A sudden burst of hope flashed and the female lurched herself to her pads, launching herself into a full lope toward the swinging doors. Slamming her body into the large, metal doors, she felt them swing out of her way, narrowly missing her hind leg as she bolted from the room. Slipping on the smooth linoleum, she sought purchase, spheres snapping from door to door to find the exit she so desperately needed.

As moonlight poured through the top window of a door, Rumor scrambled for it. It was locked and shut. It was not a swinging door and as she slammed her shoulder into it, was sent sprawling to the ground. Whimpering, she quickly got up, hearing the footsteps of the humans and bolted for a room nearby. Slipping on the cool, smooth surface of the floors, she nearly ran into the desk, haunches slipping beneath her and sliding before she hauled herself back up onto all fours and straightened herself again. The window was open. Not by much, but enough for her to try to pull her body through it. Lunging for the opening, her front paws hauled her up onto the sill and the head and chest through. Hind legs scrabbled for a moment on the wall until she found purchase on the window sill and shoved her body through, scraping her back and stomach against the sill. Finally, she was free! As she hit the dirt and stumbled, Rumor ran. She began running for her life. The sweet, fresh air was like honey to a bitter apple. Her tongue lolled, breathing in as much of the fresh oxygen as possible. It was then, however, that a yelp ripped from her jaws as she felt metal slice through her flank.

The pain was unbearable and if it hadn’t been for her very sudden urge to live, she would have allowed her body to collapse to the ground. Instead, she drove her paws harder, furthering herself from the hell she had once lived. It was, however, short-lived. One of the humans was catching up to her. He’d hopped into a vehicle and was intending to capture her. Lips curled back as he braked his vehicle and skidded to a stop. Hopping from the vehicle, he moved towards her. “Here, girl… Come on, we’ll take you back and give you a nice warm meal..” Rumor had had enough. Enough of the hell. Enough of these evil creatures that tortured her so. Hind-legs propelled her forward. Although the mans hands moved to block her, he was too late. Her jaws snapped shut around his throat, her legs shoving off of his chest as she tore his throat out, the human body collapsing to the ground as Rumor dropped the chunk of meat and bolted again for the nearby forest.

They were moving onward again, and still, Rumor followed. Her instinct told her to stay with them. It was safer with them than it was alone. And so far, treading land with them, she was learning the way of the wolf and hadn’t seen any two-leggeds. Acoustics flattened as she slinked along the ground behind him. As the two males spoke, she listened quietly, watching their gaits as they walked. Ozymandias looked very sure of himself to her. Very confident and prepared for anything. Roman was relaxed, although he was limping. His current gait truly showed how old he was, though his features didn’t often give away his age. Plume shifted from between her legs for the first time since she’d met Roman, hanging limp behind her frame as she followed the men. Dropping her crown low, she kept her spheres scanning the land around them. She was nervous as they entered a strangers lands. Different scents filled her nostrils, her muscles tensing beneath her thick coat as she halted at the border, hesitating even as Roman walked on. She waited a while before she finally slipped into the lands, following Roman and Ozymandias. Her acoustics lifted momentarily, searching for any sounds, spheres nervously shifting side to side.

Pads softly scraped along the earth, her body slinking lower to the ground, plume tucking between her hind legs again as she slowly followed Roman and Ozymandias at a distance. She heard voices and immediately, the small she-wolf came to a halt once more. She didn’t follow Roman and Ozymandias into the clearing. The fae had no intentions of being greeted and prodded at by more strangers. Two were enough for her. Acoustics flattened against her skull, chewing at her lip as she cocked her crown, staring toward the voices as Roman spoke to the alpha. Rumor didn’t know proper social etiquette and wouldn’t know how to properly approach the alpha in an acceptable way. Shifting her weight, she waited in silence, listening intently to the wolves speaking.

[/size][/center]

Rumor

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[Sighani]

Ozymandias...

Some kind of innocence is measured out in years. Though the eyes of the renegade glowed with the curious turquoise of youth, the soul beneath was stained with blood. Bad blood. Blonde and ivory fur was draped in a mantle of vile, ghostly black, the man dragging behind him a tattered cloak of stolen lives stitched crudely together by cold revenge and righteous fury. Ozymandias, child of the sun, walked eternally in the shade. It wasn't where he chose to be. In fact, he had once dwelt in glorious, golden light, but that had been before . . . And once that light had turned into an ugly, blistering flame, he had fled for his life into the smothering arms of darkness, where he could not see the faces of his pursuers, where they could not see him. He was an outlaw now. Wanted. Dead or alive. It was only a matter of time until the lawman crawled out from the pit. In running, Ozymandias had found his sanctuary, but his heart grew weary and his feet grew heavy; he knew he could not run forever.

A criminal, they had called him. A murderer, even, deserving of the full penalties of law, but he felt no guilt because he knew, as well as he'd ever known anything, that they were wrong. He was not a criminal, he was a hero. He was not a murderer, he was a savior. The ancient foundations of justice and liberty had shattered and warped, and in such twisted times, a crook donned a crown and called himself king while true princes suffered under the oppression of whipcracks and the black shroud of terror. Submit to the code, or die. Ozymandias bowed before no man. He'd seen through their masks, seen the system's true face, and the system, horrified by his discovery, had lashed back with great vengeance and furious anger. They hurt him, cut him deep down beneath the flesh and burned his soul with iron claws and fangs of fire, but he had survived. The single thought that had kept his ragged heart beating was the knowledge that they had acted not out of hate, but out of sheer terror. They were afraid of him, and they had every reason to be. He knew their secrets, and he alone possessed the power to rip them from their thrones of innocent bones and drown them in the blood they'd spilt upon hallowed grounds. One day he'd return and hurt them as wickedly as they'd hurt him.

But that day was far away. His wounds still bled and he had yet to reclaim his strength. But he hadn't left them without scars of their own, he'd made sure of that. They wouldn't come after him so soon after they'd been ripped apart. They needed time to regroup, lick the poison from their battered hides, and by the time they pulled the barbed nooses from around their throats, he would be ready for them.

Wisps of fur shining against the afternoon gloom like spun gold, Ozymandias walked with unfaltering patience at the shoulder of the limping elder, nose ever pointed towards the mist-shrouded horizon and eyes flashing like a warm summer sky. Against his better judgement, he'd made fast friends with the old man and in spite of his initial suspicions, he was not so cruel as to shrug off the older brujo's injury. Of course, being stubborn and prideful, Roman insisted it was nothing over which he should fret, but Ozymandias knew better than to fall for that manner of trickery. He'd seen it too often in his own father. Roman was the cracked reflection of a ghost Ozymandias had assumed long buried, and every time he passed a roving eye over the white knight, he couldn't help but notice the subtle tug on his heartstrings. His father had never lived so long, never had a chance. But if memory served well, Ozymandias assumed that his father would have been about the same age as this old warrior, grizzled scars and all. Oftentimes he found his mind wandering to waking dreamscapes in which his father and Roman had battled side by side in the same royal order, fighting to uphold the values of truth, justice, genuine chivalry, striking down all the vile vermin who crawled across their paths with whispers of greed and corruption. Ozymandias was a man fullgrown, and yet he still entertained fleeting fancies of his father's lost glory, just like a bright-eyed whelp. He'd been forced into maturity too early, harsh lines of age carved cruelly into soft, boyish features too familiar with the hot splash of blood. In Roman's companionship, he found refuge in a foreign childhood.

"Too old for adventure, Judge?" Ozymandias said with a playful wink as the ivory brute settled down amongst the tangled roots of a tree, one of few in these blighted lands. Though Ozymandias had not hesitated to regale his new companion with tales of his colored past, he had never explained his logic behind his given nickname for Roman. There were things that even Ozymandias did not speak of. The old man did not need to know that his own father had been a judge on the high council just before his end. Roman did not need to know how desperately he yearned to reclaim that lost guidance. Reluctantly, his haunches folded and he joined the old warrior, ears pricked forward to catch rough, gravel-hewn lyrics. His lips split into a smirk as Roman requested a story. "Why, it'd be my pleasure, sir," the young vigilante replied, his drawl sweet and deep, smooth and rich as old whisky. He cast a curious eye in Rumor's direction, ensuring she was well within earshot, and searched his recollection for only a heartbeat before slipping comfortably into his narrative. "I reckon it all happened about two years and a hundred million miles ago. There was these real wild boys, a gang, they called themselves, but they wasn't much more than a pack of rats, and I told 'em as much. Well, you can just imagine how well they took that one. Hell, Judge, those boys, they didn't take it at all!"

"Why, dear ol' Wyatt d'Artagnan . . . you look like someone just walked over your grave." The night was black as sin, but Ozymandias could see clear as day the bolt of fear that ripped like lightning through Wyatt's white-ringed eyes. He emerged stiff-legged from the concealment of the trees, naked autumn boughs reaching down to claw at him with skeletal fingers, rasping leaflessly in a chilling breeze like old bone against bone, the whispers of death. The crescent moon sliced the sacred darkness of the night sky like a talon dipped in blood, a sign of death foretold. Blood would indeed be shed this night, and Ozymandias would be damned if he saw his own hide slicked with that crimson warmth by this man's doing ever again. "My fight's not with you, Ozy," Wyatt snarled low in his chest, hackles daggering along his spine as he took one, two, three steps back, distancing himself from Ozymandias's approaching form, a vengeful specter emerging from the shadows to taste blood. He never completely regained his composure. Ozymandias was supposed to be dead. He'd seen him fall. Better yet, he never saw him rise.

"I beg to differ, sir," the blonde responded with infuriating ease, and if he was intimidated in the slightest by the impending fight, the mind did not betray the body, and his voice remained as cool and indifferent as it had ever been, sliding smoothly into Wyatt's senses, haunting and unnatural. Ozymandias, he knew, did not start fights, but he would gladly finish them. And he often did. "We started a game we never got to finish. You said you was playin' for blood, remember?" Wyatt's eyes shifted nervously to the sparse grove at the other male's back, searching desperately for retaliation, but even then he knew there was no one left to send. Even then he knew they were all dead, and now it was his turn to dance with devil. "Oh, Ozy," he said with nervous laughter, his foolish pride keeping him grounded on his feet, but he couldn't hide the tremor in his voice anymore than he could hide the fear in his eyes. "I was just foolin' about, is all." The grin that slowly cracked the otherwise indifferent visage of his blue-eyed rival was the wicked grin of death itself. Ozymandias had been dealt a great wrong, and he had followed Wyatt here tonight to finally set things right. "I wasn't."

By the time Ozymandias had reached the end of his story, his last chuckle fading in the wind, Roman was wading forth from the dregs of his shallow slumber. His mystic gems stole over to the skittish female, guaging her proximity, and although she still crouched with her belly to the earth, Ozymandias could clearly discern that she had drawn closer than ever before. She was still making progress. And she was also observing his every move, hanging on his every word, likely trying to decide for herself if he could be trusted not to attack her in the dead of night. It made him slightly uneasy and he wondered for a fleeting instant if his retelling of old memories were fodder for her festering paranoia, but then Roman was on his feet again, striving ever towards the promise of a pack and a new home, and Ozymandias was forced to leave the thought behind with his footprints.

As the sun washed the clouds in stains of gold and scarlet silk, the late summer breeze rife with the songs of crickets and nightengales and reigning wolves, the motley trio found itself within the borders of a newly claimed kingdom. These lands were shrouded in shades of greens and grays, nestled deep inside the embrace of a spectral mist that wasn't so much oppressive as it was safe. He followed close by Roman as the white brujo led them through these strange new lands, so sharp in contrast to the browns and golds of the blonde outlaw's inland territory. It was strange and alien, full of emerald life and biting seasalt winds, and Ozymandias was quite sure he could never truly call this place home, but he hoped he could, at the very least, find temporary sanctuary within its borders. Sighing under his breath, Ozymandias followed dutifully behind Roman into a clearing where two wolves of fine fighting stock stood in wait.

"How d'you do, sir? Ma'am?" Ozymandias said after Roman had introduced himself to these strangers, obviously the rulers of these lands, so similar to one another in appearance, and still so different somehow. Two sides of the same coin. He gave a slight nod of his head before he continued, pulled from what little etiquette he'd retained over the years. There had been a time when he'd considered himself quite refined and gentile, but that was long ago, in a time best left forgotten. "My name is Ozymandias, but that's quite a noble name for as humble a soul as yours truly. Ozy I always have been, and if it's fine by you, Ozy I am." His smile was charming, harmless, but painfully routine. His secrets ran deep, and if this king ever discovered his status as a hunted outlaw, he would likely be banished from these lands. It was imperitive that he learn to play by this alpha's rules, otherwise he faced almost certain expulsion. He was not ready to face his pursuers. His wounds had not yet healed. He cast a sideways glance to Roman, his ordinary smile suddenly cracking and spreading into an honest grin, a lively gleam flaring up in his blue eyes. "You should be proud of your companion, Judge. I quite recall how to make a proper introduction. I have not yet begun to defile myself."

...The times, they are a-changin'

[Starrlight]

"Do ya suppose anyone will come?"

"Hmm?" Nuada raised his head to see Kaelyn looking at him, for he had obviously just missed a question.

"Do ya think anyone will be showing up?"

He could have laughed, she looked so uneasy. Instead, however, he hid any trace of a smile. "They'd be fools to turn aside such an offer, though with you here, who knows?" He grinned, ignoring the glare sent his way. Obviously the joke wasn't well met, but it wasn't his fault if she was going to be sour today. That was Kaelyn, though.. one moment, sweet as the scent of heather, the next moment, complex as the deepest loch. He had long ago learned to ride out the storms and enjoy the good days.

"I suppose so. We can't rightly expect an instant response, can we? We'll just have to be patient. Aye, patience is key." This time Nuada did not even bother covering his smile. She sounded as though she were trying to convince herself, and it was not working. Patience had never been a strong suit of Kae's.

"What's the rush, Kae? We've all the time in the world, and besides, you were ne'r the social type back home. I would think you would be baskin in the silence, silencin meself just for tryin to attract attention."

She shook her head. "I want a home, Nu." It was all she needed to say, and the tone with which she spoke it sobered him. She was right, and though he passed it off as nothing, he too was anxious to have a pack around himself once more. They had never been out on their own before now, had never been truly alone. Sure, they had one another, but to have only one other to share the time with was wearing. They argued much more often now than they used to, and this fact aggrieved both of them. Kae was tense, defensive, and tightly wound. Nuada was sulky, depressed, and passed over everything with a forced nonchalance. It was not a good combination, even on the best of days. Brother and sister in all but blood, however, they had learned to live alongside one another through years of practice, and it was times like these that made them both realize how much they truly needed one another's company. The comfortable silence that they now shared spoke of their connection... both knew the other so well that they did not need words. It stretched on, and Nuada almost thought that Kae had fallen asleep. Suddenly, however, she spoke once more. "Nu?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you... do you think we will ever go back?"

He hesitated before he spoke. He wanted to lie, but couldn't. Really, there was no need for him to speak. She knew the answer when she had asked the question. She just needed to hear it from him, for in her own mind, she could not accept the facts. "No, Kae. Never. There's no place for us there anymore." If they ever returned, they would meet the exact same fate that would have taken them before. That had almost certainly already taken their pack. Nuada closed his eyes as that thought hit him, and Kae raised her head, taking in his expression with a matching sorrow. Why hadn't they listened?! Why did they all have to be so da.mn ignorant? Nuada sighed, releasing the tension. It was in the past. There was no way to help them now. He and Kaelyn had done all that they could, fought them with all of their strength on this, and to no effect. The fault lay on none but themselves. Still, he felt responsible. So did she. They would until the end of their lives. That was always the way it went when it came to family. The blame was shared, even among the faultless.

The silence stretched on once again, this time somewhat uncomfortably. It was laden with unshared words, for in this one situation, neither was comfortable sharing his or her feelings. It was too close, and too raw a wound. Nuada glanced up at Kaelyn after a while, wanting to say something, but not knowing what. All of this waiting.... he smiled suddenly. "Reminds me of Brahmire. Remember that?" He grinned as he saw her face light up.

Kaelyn was surprised by the semi-random reference, and laughed. "How could I forget? We were in so much trouble that day! All that waiting... your father's idea, I think, making us sit so long, waiting to hear our punishment. I distinctly remember saying it was a bad idea....."

"Nay, liar! If me memory hasn't failed me yet, I remember the whole thing being your idea. T'was Sorcha was the voice of reason." He smiled, but now it was bittersweet. Memory was no longer safe territory for the heart, but he wouldn't shy away anymore. He wanted to remember her. He felt Kaelyn as she sat down next to him, pressing her coat against his. Grateful, he leaned against her.

"Síocháin, bhráthair."

It was then that Roman arrived. They were no longer expecting any company, so his emergence surprised both of them. Kae leapt to her feet, but Nuada just smiled. As he spoke, however, the smile turned into a full, baritone laugh. "King and Queen? Nay, lad, though in one respect you are correct. Me name's Nuada, King of these newly claimed lands. This here's me sister, Kaelyn." He looked back to see her glaring at Roman. Oh no. Why she took offense to the smallest things... Nuada ignored her, turning back to Roman. Hopefully she kept her maw shut. "As to yer position here, we are hardly at the point where we can be turnin' away honest travelers in hopes of a home. Welcome to Tuatha de Danann!"

Kaelyn stopped her appraisal of Roman, surprised at the name. It fit, the fabled paradise of their home's mythology. She smiled. Hopefully the history of this place would be more peaceful than that of it's namesake. She nodded her own addition to the welcome, letting go of her earlier offense. She wasn't sure about this bru, but Nuada was right. As he started speaking of a female companion, however, this 'Rumor', she began to listen intently.

A second joined the first, and Nuada smiled. "Welcome t' you as well, Ozy." This bru appeared charismatic, easy-going and relaxed. Nuada could see them getting along fine. Kae, however, did not seem so enthusiastic. "I should very much like to at least glimpse this companion of your's," Nuada added, shooting a warning glance at Kaelyn, who was obviously wanting to burst in. She had turned over the rights of leadership to him, and she would now respect his authority to speak first. She had never been good at first impressions, and he could see the indignant light in her eyes. It was obvious that something was bothering her.

Kae let a breath hiss out from beneath her teeth as she caught Nuada's glare. Obeying her adoptive brother, albeit grudgingly, she bit her tongue. Still, this whole situations seemed off to her. Two brus traveling with an obviously distraught fem, one who seemed to be scared to death of them both. It hardly looked good, and it made Kae furious just thinking about it. What had these two done to her?

The story would come out eventually, whether or not Nu wanted to follow up on it.

[Asphyxia]

If you never try, you'll never know...[/size][/color]

The large white male shifted his wait easily above his wide-set pads, acoustics leaning forward as he gazed on to observe the two wolven he had approached. Tilting his crown slightly, he watched the way that Kaelyn jumped up suddenly, as if threatened by his presence. Was she nervous in the company of strangers? Or did Roman’s sheer size make her uneasy as it did with so many wolves? Unsure, he locked his gaze with hers, before he shifted it back to a laughing Nuada. Their accent was one of which Roman had heard before, but only once before. A smile tipped Rom’s lips upward, his crown nodding in thanks. “Your generosity is greatly appreciated and respected, Nuada.” Finally, he noticed, a smile slipped the other fems lips and he let his grin broaden slightly. It looked promising here and these wolves looked genuine to him. Even so, he noticed her intense attitude and air about her change after he had spoken of Rumor.

Would they do as Ozy had done and pass judgment on the males before they even knew the facts? Ozymandias was quick to step forward and introduce himself as well, Roman swinging his muzzle to his newfound companion to give him a quick glance, listening as he spoke. “I would hope so, Ozy!” His voice boomed with laughter, his fur quivering at the tips as his hackles rose and fell, lips parting on the laugh and snapping shut easily. The nickname that Ozy had planted upon him made him question where it had come from and why it had been appointed to him, but he didn’t say anything. He liked that Ozy had nicknamed him, as it made him feel he had truly gained the mans friendship through their short journey together. His ears shifted back, flattening against his skull at Nuada’s next words, his laughter dying. It was time, perhaps, for him to tell Nuada of Rumor so that he may not be alarmed at her frightened behavior and this was his chance to get Ozy to go fetch Rumor, which he believed, would slowly help her to realize that not every wolf was out to get her.

“Ozy, my dear friend, if you would be so kind as to fetch Rumor for me. I’ll explain the situation here, so that Nuada and his lovely sister, Kaelyn are not alarmed.” His soft words spilled from his lips as his brow furrowed, lips curving into a slight frown as he gazed, once again, at his young friend. Shifting his golden spheres back to Nuada, he spoke, noticing the change in Kaelyn’s stance, hoping that she too, would understand. “I would like to apologize before hand, my liege. I found Rumor, y’see. She’s quite young still. But I found her, injured and frightened like a doe in a hunters trap. I tried to approach to help the dear, and you would think I was a crocodile with snapping teeth and a sly smile. She was very frightened and stayed far away from me. The dear still won’t come near me, I’m afraid.” His voice trailed off slowly as he caught his breath before speaking again, his feet shuffling upon the ground as he slowly lowered his haunches to the earth, easing the weight off his injured leg. “The wound looks to be from a hunters gun, sliced clear through her it did. But she appears to be healing fine on her own. I know naught of her past, Nuada, and so I do my best not to force anything on her. I cannot help her truly, if she does not trust me.”

“I would ask that neither of you try to force her into coming close. She’ll probably be less likely to do so if you do. Ozy found us and assumed me to be her assailant. On the promise that he could follow and prove that I am no assailant, Ozy and I have made friends I’d like to think and Rumor won’t go near him either. We hope that in giving her some space and talking to her, she will learn to trust us. So far, she has been following me without problem, so I think that is a positive and she’s slowly coming closer!” A smile split his mug as his serious expression turned positive to show how optimistic he was about helping the young lady. “I think, truly, that a home, a pack to call a family and some consistency may help the dove come out of her shell and perhaps learn to speak to us so that we may learn what happened and help her. She jumps at every little noise, like a jackrabbit on the run, she does.” Again, he paused, his spheres locking with Nuada’s as he gaze Ozy time to bring her along. He knew, that if she came at all, it would take a little bit before she did.

“I say this all in hopes you will not judge Ozy and myself until you know the situation first hand and that you do not frighten her more by not knowing. I have conversation with her, y’see, to get her used to me. I tell her aplenty and Ozy’s stories that he tells me of, I am sure, help her adjust to him as well.” His crown bowed gently in an apologetic bow, before he lifted it once more. Golden hues landed upon Kaelyn, crown tilting slightly as his smile disappeared. “M’lady, I apologize if my previous words had offended or alarmed you.”

Roman

[/size][/color][/right]

[Sighani]

Ozymandias...

The blonde tossed his thick mane restlessly, wanderlust already tugging at the strings of his heart, forcing his nose into the sweet summer wind, drinking deep of the splendor of these new lands. Ozymandias longed to break away from these banal formalities, to run free with the wind in his coat and his mitts pounding out the earth's rhythmic, vagabond heartbeat. Idle paws so often found themselves upon a path of darkness, stepping mindlessly into devil's snares, a crimson noose slipped around the necks of the ignorant and the indifferent. If he did not keep moving, he would never lose his shadow; his hot-footed demons would finally catch up with him and drag him back to the hell from which he'd so narrowly escaped, into the smothering embrace of his tormentors, their claws finding a familiar anchor hooked deeply inside tattered flesh that had so recently learned how to heal. The first cut was the deepest, and it never quite healed. He'd remember that agonizing ache until the end of days, but flying upon the white wings of freedom made him forget the pain, if only for a little while.

He had to keep moving. Always on the run. Aquamarine eyes flicked about in the forest's verdant gloom like sacred blades, called forth from the briney depths of the sea, oceanic steel crashing like tidal waves over the assembled varg. Like his spirit, his gaze seldom lingered. However, he could not keep that sharpened stare from plunging deep into the dark pools of the fatale who so readily scoffed at a sovereign title. Fair brow quirking in curiosity, he hardly had to pass his orbs over Kaelyn's handsome features to discern her suspicion. Strong walls, iron-forged and stone-wrought, stood barricading the warm affections of a sister from the glacial bite of a cynic and the flame-laced lashings of a dominatrix. Walls, however, aren't built merely to keep others out. Some walls sprang forth from shaded quarries of overzealous loyalty and scorn for the world. These walls were as much a prison as they were a stronghold. No way in and now way out. Ozymandias could not keep his thoughts from flitting through withering fields of sympathy. What had happened to this woman that she had become so untrusting of her fellow varg? Tearing his gaze free, he shook the settling dust from his mind, doubting he would ever know. She had made it clear that she did not approve of his presence, wanted little to do with him because her doubt was greater than her need for companionship, and it was not likely she would ever walk with him through starlit glades and divulge her secrets. She hadn't even introduced herself. Even Ozymandias knew that there was no sense in sowing a barren field.

A deep sigh, not dismal nor impatient but rather something wistful and longing, something nameless and tacit but easily understood, slipped from the flaxen hessian's charred rims. Distraction showed blatantly in his expression, a nebulous glow shining deep in his orbs. He offered Nuada the most fleeting of smiles, granite-hewn features softened for an instant by genuine gratitude, and he wondered for a revealing moment if he had come here for his own sake, or merely that of his companions. An old warrior and a neurotic girl . . . The world was tougher, crueler, now than it had been even when Ozymandias had been a child, fangs sharper, talons hooked and venom-kissed. It did not suffer weakness, purged it, in fact, in cleansing fires that too often stole away gentle souls and laughing faces. Roman, he knew, was still quite capable, but his injuries were slow in healing, and would leave him bent and broken, his grizzled body unable to repair itself as it had in his youth. He may very well have survived several more years alone in the wilderness, but his survival would have been wicked and merciless, and his tender heart would have hardened to something steely and frigid, something shameful, something bitter and unworthy of such a noble knight. A pack was the best thing for him. And Rumor . . . She was a scared child seeing through the eyes of a woman, forced too carelessly into an adult world, the damage suffered severe and possibly irreparable. Ozymandias had no delusions: without a pack, this fatale would die.

But as for himself, he could not rightly say. He was desperate for a family, but he did not know whether he could ever again adjust to live under the rule of a monarch. Tyrant was, perhaps, the more apt term. Values at first snare the psyche in filmy wisps of spidersilk, nigh invisible and insubstantial, but flexible and sticky. Before long, the web turns instead to steel chains, unshakable and binding. Ozymandias had taught himself long ago that kings were never to be trusted, and he was unsure whether he could change, even for the better. It was the reason he ran. How long could he bear to abide a spirit-enslaving oppression? His devotion never faltered, no matter how many miles he traveled, but his service was never stationary.

Ears pricked forward as the rumbling baritone of Roman's voice rolled like thunder through the air, Ozymandias turning to the massive ivory brute with a half-slung grin, lush plume swishing in response. Fetch Rumor? He'd been pining for an excuse to move and busy his mind. He wondered briefly if the white knight could read him as easily as that. He had, after all, been a young man before, no doubt he could still remember what it was like. "My pleasure, sir," he replied, honeysweet drawl interlaced with an easy chuckle. Travel-callused paws danced nimbly around the elder toward where he knew Rumor was crouched in the scrub, but he paused for a second, scarred maw swinging back over his shoulder towards the others. "I feel it appropriate to warn ya now, she's not like to come easy. You're askin' me to call down the thunder, Judge, and boy, are you ever gonna get it."

Steeling himself with a deep breath, the renegade closed the distance between himself and the skittish fae, doing his best to make himself appear as harmless as possible, a gentle smile on his lips, hackles limp, frame low and submissive. "How d'you do, ma'am?" he spoke softly as he lowered his front end down, nosing aside a tangle of ferns to spy the mystic orbs of the fatale. He wagged his tail several times in a way he hoped was disarming before continuing. "Little stuffy down here in all these weeds, innit? There's no need t'be hidin' away, darlin', I'm a friend. I am a friend. And I've got some new friends I'm just dyin' t'introduce ya to. What say you come on outta there, ol' girl? We don't want to start any trouble, now, do we?" He winked at the fae but was careful not to move any closer, sensing he had already invaded her boundaries. As much as he was praying for cooperation, he was fully expecting a struggle. He only hoped that when push came to shove, he wouldn't hurt the girl. Clearly she'd seen enough pain in her life. But hadn't they all?

...The times, they are a-changin'

[Asphyxia]

Lights will guide you home.[/size][/color]

The scent of berries and plants filled the she-wolfs nostrils as she crouched low to the ground in the brush a hundred yards from where she could espy Roman speaking with strangers. A beautiful, calming scent it was, causing her muscles to ease and relax a bit. Nostrils flared, tongue lolling in nervousness, brow furrowing slightly as her spheres narrowed upon the small group. Acoustics hauled back against her skull as she cocked her crown slightly. Still, even as she crouched in the foliage, nervous and uneasy, her stomach flipping inside of her, she wondered what they spoke of. Were the strangers… safe? So far, Roman and Ozymandias seemed safe, but she couldn’t be sure yet. How many had approached her that were truly safe? Not many. Side from the two males of course. But they still made her nervous. Did the two-legged live around here? The concept of the humans being close by sent a shiver crawling down her spine.

As the blonde male came strolling back ‘round in her direction, Rumor hustled back in the foliage, ducking lower so that he may not see her. But damn it all, he had spot of her and was already dropping his front down low as he approached, slowing his movements, tail wagging. As he spoke and nudged aside some ferns to land his gaze level with hers, she froze, her muscles taut beneath her cloak, hackles spiking slightly, as her talons dug heedlessly into the earth beneath her. Why had he come so close to her? This was possibly the closest she had ever gotten to him. Once before, she’d come right next to the large white male, but that was with coyotes surrounding them. Now, it was just him and her and it sent chills traipsing through her chassis as she locked her multi-hued spheres with his. Lips curled back to show her canines, although she made no sound or move. After her hackles had risen, not even her fur had quivered. Friend…? She’d had friends as a child. Very close friends that she had cared about. Until they had been separated by the humans.

His easy-going, gentle attitude and non-pushy way of approaching her eased her discomfort slightly, but only slightly, for he crouched nearly nose to nose with her. And silly, did he ever look, bowing before her in the way he had his body positioned, with his tail wagging and a smile playing across his muzzle like a playful, boastful child. Auds still held flat against her skull, spheres holding his without a mere blink still, she wasn’t sure if she was frozen in fear or just unwilling to move. Slowly, her plume gave a light swish. The faintest of movements it had made without it being shoved under her, between her hind-legs in fear. The slightest of trusting movements. Should she say something yet…? Lips split apart, dry from such little use as they had been, other than to drink water on the very small occasion that she had chosen to eat or drink. Her wound was still scabby and easy to open from movements, so she would have to be careful if she climbed out of the foliage into a bit of clear ground to face down her fears.

But as she went to speak, to answer his how d’you do, her voice cracked. “I-” and it was all she was able to get out. Lack of use for so many years had broken her voice, almost as much as it had crippled her with fear. New friends… Thusfar, the word she clung to for dear life was friend. Never had she had friends or considered anyone friends since she was a mere pup. But now, he considered himself her friend and in his gentle voice with which he’d used the word, he’d made her feel like he truly was. But new friends? Was Roman a friend to her? And these strangers… Did Roman and Ozymandias deem them safe? If they hadn’t, would they come get her to bring her to them? Finally, her lips sheathed her canines once more, spheres slowly shifting from Ozy’s to gaze over his shoulder at the group ahead. They were where he intended to take her, right? They were who he planned to introduce her to? She didn’t know if she could talk yet. She desperately wanted to find her voice again, but could not.

Panic seized her and she pressed her belly further into the earth, staring at them. But as she eased her black and yellow hues back to Ozymandias and saw his reassuring smile, she swallowed a deep breath, brow furrowing, before she closed her kissers and let her acoustics slowly shift forward on her skull, straining to hear the voices of the strange wolves. Another subtle sign that she was slowly being coaxed by his ways. Still, her paws were frozen in place and it was taking her a while to think about the situation. Until finally, her weight shifted and her hackles lowered against her shoulders, crown tilting at Ozy, concern flashing in her spheres over what to do, eyes shifting from him to the gathered group. Lifting her body slowly from the ground, her hindquarters rose, chest staying close to the grounds soil, plume giving a slight wag as she imitated his movements, her tilting skull still curious about what to do. Roman and Ozy were the only wolves she had known and still, she was learning the way they spoke and used body language. And this one was new to her.

Spheres locked with his as she gave a gentle nod of her crown. One that would go unnoticed by one that wasn’t watching so closely. She definitely didn’t want to start trouble and if Ozy recommended she meet these wolves to keep from starting trouble, she’d best do as he suggested. He and Roman knew better of the social greetings and ways of wolves than she did. And they were her teachers. For now. But for now, she would take baby steps and face her fears. She could only hope that none of them would attack her. Slowly, her chest eased from the earth into a full stand, plume hanging limp behind her frame once more. Still, her stance was low and submissive, as it always was, but she was standing instead of attempting to hide her painted frame in the brush, acoustics tipping backward on her crown as she cautiously stared in the direction Ozy had come from, unsure and unwilling to move until he did. She would not approach on her own. She refused to approach on her own. Talons finally retracted, easing from the earth, her spheres shifting to meet Ozy’s again in uncertainty.

[/size][/center]

Rumor

[/size][/color][/right]

[Starrlight]

Nuada dipped his head in response to Roman's thanks, his smile only growing. The accent of this land was strange, though that was only to be expected. Still, it was odd to hear them speak, their voices and nuances so vastly different from Nuada and Kae's own. It only showed how far both were from home. It was obvious that Ozy and Roman had been traveling together for a while. Both bantered good naturedly with one another, and Nuada revelled in their easygoing company. He loved Kaelyn dearly, but she was rarely relaxing company.

The fem in question currently, however, was the model of good behavior. In fact, she was dying of curiosity. She wanted to meet this fem who was so mysterious, and whose presense seemed so questionable. What if she had fled? That would be regrettable indeed. Much as she hated a weak-willed fem, too reliant on the brus who surrounded her, she was not sure that this was the current fem's problem. Ozy and Roman were brus, that much was true, but something about them rang true when describing their meeting with Rumor. She had no reason, currently, to openly despise them. As such, she would accept her wrong first impression. Of course, this did not mean she had to particularly like them either.

Both Nuada and Kae's eyes followed Ozy as he left on his impossible task, then the former's gaze returned to the remaining Roman. The latter, however, remained attentive to the direction the other wolf had taken.

Nuada smiled. "There is nothin here to apologize for, Roman. I believe ye to be who ye say ye are, and as for the lass, that is regrettable indeed, but she will not be approached should she not wish it. Hear that, Kae?"

Kaelyn looked at Nuada, indignant and somewhat incensed. "Ye think I don't have the sense to figure that out meself?"

Ignoring her, Nu turned back to Roman. "She will have a home here so long as she abides by the rules of these lands. We seek only peace, and a place to prosper. Nothing else shall be required of her 'less she decides to hold a rank. I assume, however, that will come once she becomes more comfortable." Nuada was a patient wolf and would hardly trouble a fem for her past. After all, it wasn't her fault that she was so skittish.

Kae heard Roman's apology out, and for a moment, was silent. Finally, she looked at him. "I have no reason to distrust your story, but neither have you given me reason to trust you. Till that day, know this. I am neither your friend, nor that bru you call companion." With that she walked a ways away, sitting down with her back turned. She would have gone out of sight, but she still wanted to meet this other newcomer.

Nuada growled impatiently at Kaelyn's inopportune display of agression, but he could hardly be angry. After all, he knew why, and he could not blame her for her history any more than he would Rumor. "I am sorry, Roman, for Kae. She's got a good heart... she's just prickly. And not without reason........" He trailed off, eyes growing troubled. "That story is not mine to tell, however. Just don't judge her by her words. I love her like a sister, and she still closes off to me sometimes."

At that moment, however, he stopped talking, for he had spotted Ozy's form approaching, another walking alongside him. So he would meet this mysterious Rumor after all. Kae too stood, watching. After a moment, Nuada turned his attention back to Roman, not wanting to spook the fem from coming closer. Kae continued to observe, however, waiting to take Rumor's measure.

[Asphyxia]

[bg=000000][atrb=width,530,true][atrb=border,0,true] The large brutes ears lifted, tipping forward on his crown as he gazed upon Nuada Setante and his sibling, observing heir interactions, lips curving upward in a smile. How he missed having his family around him. But alas, no more would that be. His mate had been a fool and betrayed the pack they had lived in. His children had moved on to create lives of their own and any family he may have been so blessed with had passed away. The memories drew deep lines into his forecrown, spheres narrowing slightly with the lashing of pain the memories brought the polar. Tipping his mug again in his thankfulness, he gave Nuada another smile, erasing away the frowns that had etched momentarily across his visage. And it was with thoughts of prospering in a new setting, with a new family that brought upon this smile. Already, he looked upon Ozymandias and Rumor as good friends, younger friends to be taken under his wing, but friends nonetheless. Shifting his large weight, the male listened to the two speak to one another, still. They seemed very much like the siblings they claimed to be. Challenged each other as most siblings did. Both were a lot younger than himself, though, and he could see, while both probably had a lot behind them, still had many, many obstacles to hurdle in life. Many experiences to still put to the dust behind their heels. He went silent, his smile now that of contentment as he waited quietly for Ozymandias to bring their friend. As Nuada spoke, his ears shifted forward, his gaze locking with the Kings. “I am almost certain she will abide by your rules, Nuada Setante. She barely even touches said things. Still, she has a lot to learn of our society, our ways and will need proper guidance. Any rules she may break, I can assure you, will be accidental and not on purpose. ” Letting his amber hued spheres shift between the two, he continued, “She is far too afraid to go against anybodies wishes on purpose..

[/color]” As Kaelyn spoke, however, Roman’s spheres narrowed slightly. It sounded more like a threat than anything and his acoustics shifted back. But his mind told him to cool it. His sudden protectiveness over his two companions flared, but he refused to act on them and behave rashly. “May I be so bold as to say, nor have you Kaelyn of Tuatha De Danann. However, it appears to me that you judge before knowing in full context what such wolves or situations may hold. We have not asked for your friendship, but for your kindness. Your generosity. Or so, that of your brothers.[/color]” Hoping he was not speaking out of line, Roman gazed toward Nuada before his orbs flickered back upon Kaelyn. “I ask for no trouble here, and will ask that you cause none for neither me or my friends. If you so wish it, M’Lady Youth, we shall be on our way and search for such trustworthiness and kindness elsewhere.[/color]”

The familiar sound of canine padfalls upon the ground drew Roman’s acoustics back, although it was not in threat to Kaelyn. He could not risk such rude, instable behavior with Rumor and he would not. “I apologise for speaking out so boldly, but I will not risk the stability I require to help Rumor. Not on anyone’s moods or past results.[/color]” Dipping his crown in sincere apology for being so rudely behaved, he let his hues close, before peeling open to look upon Kaelyn. “I, however, would prefer friends over enemies, if I do say so myself. And you seem quick to hold everyone an enemy. I can promise, I am no enemy to behold and I will prove that to you, Kaelyn and Nuada Setante.[/color]” Swinging his wide head back to gaze upon his two companions, he was surprised. Ozymandias had coaxed the lady from hiding and how he had done it, Roman wasn’t sure. He only hoped that if he was quicker to gain her trust, that he would stick around.

“Nuada Setante and Kaelyn, may I introduce my companion, Rumor.[/color]” Plume wagged, his lips curling in a large, genuine grin. She still appeared very skittish and moved low to the ground, but it was a step forward that she had appeared at all, before two strangers, with two wolves she knew and barely trusted as it were. He made no move to force her closer than she was, and made no advancements toward her. It was his concern to keep her as comfortable as possible in such a situation as it was.[/center]

wordcount;; seven hundred, seventy-one.
lyrics;; background television noise.

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[Sighani]

Ozymandias...

"I spent my whole life not knowin' what I want out of it, Ozy, ol' boy. Just chasin' my tail. And now for the first time I know exactly what I want, and how . . . and ain't that just the damnable misery of it." The older man swung his scarred and battered muzzle away from Ozymandias, dust motes rising from his pelt in an ethereal plume, eyes slitted against the midday sun, but keen as a hawk's. He had the look of both predator and prey. His orbs were as blue and deep as fabled oceans neither wolf had ever seen, and just as old. Ozymandias turned his gaze away from his father, afraid of that cold, steely glint that had wormed its way into his features, a look he'd hoped he would never have to see on his old man. It wasn't just revenge they saught now; it was a dead reckoning.

"What'll you have me do?" the blonde said after a tense silence, voice trembling with suppressed emotions, face set in granite so that he wouldn't shed a tear in front of his father. He was a grown man now. Grown men didn't cry. Which only made it that much more surprising when he turned his eyes back to his father and saw fresh tears trickling through the weathered lines of the hessian's cheeks. "In all my years of judging, I only ever been mixed up in one killin'. Just one. But a man lost his life that day and I took it. You're too young to know how that feels, and believe me, son, you don't ever wanna know. Not ever. You just leave everything to me." His father rose suddenly to his feet and Ozymandias followed suit, eyes downcast so as to show respect to the other man's newfound vulnerability, but his father wore his tears with pride. If his father was ashamed of anything, it was that he hadn't acted sooner, before so many lives had been lost, before they had been forced into this final act of desperation. Before he'd been forced to carve harsh lines of manhood into the innocent, boyish features of his only son. But he had not been the only man to suffer a loss. Just as his daughters had been stolen from him, Ozymandias' had lost his sisters. Vengeance tasted sweet on the tongues of young and old alike. And revenge would come, as surely as the sun would set that very evening. He'd give his life for it. But he would not sacrifice his last living child.

"Dyin' ain't no way to make a livin', boy," he said gruffly, shoulder brushing against his son's in a gesture of familiar comfort. Ozymandias choked on a sob at the contact, the dam of his self-restraint blown away by a violent surge of emotion. "I've lived long enough to see my boy grow into the man I'd always dreamt he'd become. You done me damn proud, Ozymandias, and my only regret is that I didn't tell you so as often as I should've. And as a father I can't ask my son to throw his whole life away before he's had the chance to do the same. But listen now, and listen good. If I fail tonight, I want you to retreat up the valley, send out a song atop the ridge, rally 'round the bedraggled mongrels you find there, and make a last stand for liberty amongst a rebellion that'll never submit to corrupt wolven tyranny whilst there is yet a man alive to bare his fangs. You understand me?" And although Ozymandias couldn't say as much through the flood of tears, he knew then that he had never understoond anything more clearly in his entire life.

It had been three years since he had lost his father, and almost as long since he had last dwelt upon the subject matter. Ozymandias was not a man who lingered on past failures, no matter how terrible or personal. He found old memories rank and stagnant, too putrid in which to breathe the sweet perfume of freedom and a life redeemed. It was nightmarish matter best reserved for dreamscapes, not waking effort. But he found himself slipping more and more within the last several days, drawn down into that odious hell by stray glances and thoughtless turns of phrase, and the harder he struggled to escape, the faster it rose up in a great, stinking tide and pulled him back under. He'd been wallowing for days now in his own past, consciousness bobbing just at the surface like a bloated, water-logged corpse, a sea of infinite misery stretching black and vile beneath his frantic paws. He found temporary reprieve here in the lands of Tuatha de Danaan. This new kingdom was a placid, green island amidst repulsive waters, allowing him to catch his breath and refocus on the glimmering light of a better future he'd nearly lost in his own self-inflicted blindness. He was a free soul, always on the move. And so when even his thoughts found themselves trapped in the same dark pit, they withered and died as pitifully as a bird in a snare.

Finding Roman had been both a blessing and a curse, and the longer he stayed with the man, the more he came to realize that the consequences far outweighed the benefits. He knew it was Roman's fault that he'd found himself sinking into those old, repressed memories. Roman reminded him of his father. It was a fact he'd acknowledged upon their very first meeting, and both he and the old knight were intimately aware of its presence in their relationship. But neither of them knew how deeply it had buried itself inside the neglected sinew of Ozymandias' heart, at least not at first. Now Ozymandias was starting to feel the dull ache in his chest each time he locked eyes with the ursine brute, a splinter driving deeper and deeper with each yearning pulse. Ozymandias knew that if he didn't get away from Roman soon, that ache would morph into something much more sinister that would be apt to drive him quite insane. And ain't that just the damnable misery of it, his father's rough voice echoed in his head. Because Ozymandias had found his father in this man, and in spite of the dangers of becoming more attached, he could not bear to lose his father a second time.

And then there was Rumor, a girl he'd promised himself, right from the start, to distance himself from as much as possible. He'd felt the stinging barbs in that relationship long before he'd felt Roman's hooks in his heart. Rumor was a lost and shattered woman in need of guidance and a friend, and Ozymandias had told himself he would not be either of those things to her because he'd already been both to other women and knew how horribly failing in either respect could hurt. Rumor blinked those mystic eyes, and he saw Pax's gently smiling face. She blinked again, and he smelled the twilight musk of Divalia's silver tresses. Again, and he heard the lilting chime of Vivianne's laughter. Not lovers. Sisters. All three defiled, brutally ravaged and killed in front of his very eyes. And when he looked at Rumor, the fear in her eyes and the uncertainty in each shaking step, he couldn't help but wonder if his sisters would have succumbed to the same terrified agony if they had been damned to live. He had promised himself that he wouldn't get close to Rumor, and yet here he was, smiling warmly, coaxing her out into the open, inviting her into his crushed and bleeding heart with masochistic need.

For as much as he longed to break away from these old ties to new faces, he knew he could not. He was too good for that. Too noble, too caring. Too soft, perhaps. But his father had made damn sure that the roots of his loyalty ran deeper even than his instincts. The grin that stretched across his face when Rumor emerged from the shrubbery was not forced or false in any way, but he wished it were. It would have been much more simple if his affections were nothing more than a pretense, a facade to earn the trust of the monarchy. It would have hurt less than real pride and genuine happiness for the girl. But fate was ever a cruel mistress, which was why he chose to flirt with luck. Better to have fun with a painted whore than to go mad in the embrace of a sadistic lover.

"That wasn't so hard now, was it?" the renegade said through that easy, half-slung smile, his voice as natural as summer rain and just as sweet. He longed to beguile a smile onto Rumor's thin lips, but for now he was satisfied with the subtle wag of her tail. Brick by brick. Empires were not built in a day. Chuckling jovially, Ozymandias turned on Roman. "I think the girl's taken a bit of a shine to us, Judge. Don't ask me why, though; Lord knows we got more prickles'n a pair'a damn porcupines." His barking laughter rang clear and true in the shaded glen and he padded closer to Rumor than ever before, emboldened by his success, and slightly careless with her delicate nature. His plume wagged furiously behind him, the blonde delighted to see such swift progress in the timid maiden, and more than happy to forget his past for a while and to focus solely on a challenge. "Much obliged for your cooperation, ma'am. How very cosmopolitan." He winked playfully, aquamarine eyes a-glitter with mirth. "I know I've asked a lot of you already, an' I appreciate your efforts more'n I can say, but would it be too much to request the appearance of a lady amongst a group of ruffians? A fine woman deserves nothing less'n a proper introduction." He glanced back to the assembled varg, smile lingering still on charred rims, and lowered his voice somewhat before continuing. "Can't very well introduce yourself from all the way back here. Kings need to see strangers up close to make sure they're not hidin' armies behind their backs. Silly, I know, but no one ever said monarchies had to make sense."

...The times, they are a-changin'

[Asphyxia]

Lights will guide you home.[/size][/color]

Lips quivered slightly, Rumor’s movements slow, but steady. She was determined to start getting over what had happened and to learn to trust these other wolves, even if it took a while. Shifting her weight, she kept lower to the ground, spheres snapping to and fro in nervous anticipation. Plume still swayed ever so slightly, although it quickly fell limp behind her frame. It took everything she had, even now, not to shove her tail between her legs and run and hide. Acoustics flattened against her skull as her spheres lifted slightly to gaze into the expectant and happy grin that Ozymandias provided. Tilting her crown upward slightly, she shifted it sideways, gazing at him in curiosity at his next words about it not being so hard. The man was curious, that was certain. At each movement her pads made, she hesitated briefly, pausing slightly in her tracks before creeping forward once more. Gaze lifted from Ozymandias to Roman, who he had now directed conversation to.

Porcupines? Tipping her crown slightly, her brow furrowed deeply in thought. What in the world was a porcupine? She’d heard of them, but never had she ever seen one. As Ozymandias moved closer, plume wagging high, her lips pulled back over her canines, unsheathing them to him in warning, a low growl lifted from her chest, into her throat. Her cooperation… It was hesitant, and it was without confidence, but at his clearly happy behavior, she slowly sheathed her canines once more and cut off the growl before it left her lips, plume easing toward her hind legs to ease below her belly once more. He was thanking her? Whatever for? Giving an uncertain shake of her pelt, she looked to Roman. He was massive in comparison to her, and quieter than the outgoing form of Ozymandias. The wink Ozy sent her way though, made her multi-hued spheres snap attentions back to him. He was close and she was slowly growing more insecure about the proximity of his chassis.

Rumor would have bust out in laughter at him calling her a proper lady, but held her tongue, her features relaxing slightly as she gazed toward the other three wolves. Ruffians? Her acoustics peeled off the top of her skull and eased toward the others, listening in silence to Ozymandias’s words as she halted in her tracks, frame lifting slightly from the low posture she held, but only briefly and to get a better look at them. Her body quickly dropped back into the submissive posture that was now custom to her, but she relaxed and gave a gentle wag of her plume to let Ozy know she was listening. Now he was going on about armies and his voice slowly drowned out. But as he ended his words, she gave a small nod of her crown, one that may have been unnoticeable to the other vargs who stood a little ways off, and lifted her frame higher from the ground, moving toward them once more, even as Roman began to introduce her.

Licking her dry lips, she pulled apart her jaws, attempting to speak, to say something. But what does one say to strangers? To Kings and Queens, when one had little knowledge of these wild lives. Even so, she tried. Her voice was raspy and cracking simply from little to no use in the last few years, her brow furrowing as her spheres dropped to the ground. “I-It’s nice.. To meet you..” Should she ask of what their rules were? Should she beg them to forgive her silence and her lack of ability to give much in return for their generosity? Offer her services? But what skills did she have? This female who had been in a zoo before and after that, she was in a laboratory. How do you tell these wolves that you don’t know anything of their ways and even.. Know little on how to hunt? Instead, she went back to being quiet. She wouldn’t be surprised if she had shocked the two males, but at this point, she wasn’t sure if it was betetr to speak up for herself or remain silent.

[/size][/center]

Rumor

[/size][/color][/right]

[Starrlight]

This new group was obviously a tight-knit clan already, and their obvious loyalty heartened Nuada as he read it in their interactions and the way that Roman spoke of this mysterious fem. Very soon this loyalty would be a part of this newly founded pack, an added adhesive in the structure, strengthening it from within. How could the pack do anything but improve from this extra fortification?

The full extent of the repercussions of his actions was beginning to dawn on Nuada. This wolf was agreeing to follow his lead, despite the fact that he was obviously Nu's senior. For a second, anxieties and doubts pervaded the powerful bru's mind, ghosts that flitted among his normal thoughts, twisting and poisoning. Was he truly the best option for this position? What if he screwed up? He was, after all, "bad blood"... son of a delta. What right did he have? But, as the bru continued speaking, Nuada smiled in response, and any doubts he had evaporated as though he had forced the sun to rise once more. He had every right. What was blood anyway? It's only job was to keep one alive. It was the mind that truly detirmined one's place in this life, and Nuada knew that, with the help of those around him, he would most definitally succeed. The internal battle over in an instant, he turned to more important matters, inwardly laughing at his own insecurity. It was like being a pup again.

"If that be the case, the lass is just as welcome as ye yerself." He grinned. "Accidents are easily rectified, and none would berudge 'er a lapse now n again, given the circumstances." Poor thing, what must it be like, to not know how to act around one's own kind? He could not imagine the confusion, nor did he ever wish to be able to. Some things were best left in theory. He was avoiding the subject that surrounded Kae's reaction... the bru had handled it well. Approval at his response smashed any brotherly defense he may have taken up. Kaelyn was out of line, and Roman had every right to call her out on it.

"Dinna worry yourself, Roman. Kae will na bother Rumor, and if she does, she will have to answer to me." He shot his sister a look. This was too important an opportunity to turn aside and mess up simply because of past history that could not be forgotten. Nuada did not expect her to change her views in a single moment... just to make allowances. "Right, Kaelyn?"

"Aye, brother." Kae's ears were back, and her voice was less than friendly, but she would behave. She resented being adressed in the manner that Roman had taken, as though she were a whelp learning manners for the first time, so chose to keep her muzzle shut from that moment until the situation had played out. Her opinion was known, and that was all that mattered. She was a firm believer in laying problems out in full view, so that they might be solved, rather than stew and complain without doing anything about the issue. At least Roman now knew, without a doubt, that he was barely welcome by her standards. He would get along with Nuada well, no doubt, but she was not so quick to trust.

It wasn't that she did not want to trust Roman. Quite the opposite, really. She wanted a pack once more, a group around her that she would protect at all costs, and who she knew watched out for her as well. Last time she had trusted too soon, however, the pain was more than she could take again. Better to be safe. Better to hold back.

Sure that Kaelyn would now hold her tongue, Nuada's full attention turned to the pair that was currently moving in on their gathering. They came slowly, the timid fem hanging back, and Nu instinctively lowered his plume and relaxed his muscles, form shrinking to appear a tad less threatening. The poor lass was obviously nervous, which made him feel more than a little awkward in his bulk. She certainly was a wee thing! It was to his complete shock, however, that she opened her lips and introduced herself. His eyes widened, but his stance remained stock still. Her voice was rough, but the words were clear.

Slowly he dipped his head in a small bow, as courtesy required. "Greetings, m'dear, and welcome to Tuatha De Danann. I meself am Nuada, Laird of these lands. " His lips tugged upwards in a smile. She looked... uncertain. He wanted to make it clear that propriety really meant little here. After all, he was an unrightful king. If he did not have to follow protocal, why should anyone else have to?

Kaelyn hung back, gazing at the new fem. The way she moved, the jerks, the tense posture that showed an obvious flight response... Kae knew that feeling well. She herself, a year back, would have appeared just like that. She had been lucky, however. She had Nuada, whom she had always known she could trust. This fem, whatever she had gone through,, she had gone through alone. Well, she was no longer alone. Taking a few steps forward, but keeping behind Nuada, Kae smiled at the fem.. her first one directed at these new residents. "And I am Kaelyn. It's a pleasure t' meet ye."

[Asphyxia]

[bg=000000][atrb=width,530,true][atrb=border,0,true] The snowy form of the hessain moved slowly towards his offspring. His only child. A beautiful young lady, but a darker lady… She was as white as he was and although she had his thick white pelt, she had her mothers dark green spheres, not her fathers gold ones. She also had a much leaner frame than her father, but her stance was rigid, as always. Was tense and held in the uniform way that a soldier would hold their body. But that wasn’t to say she wasn’t delicate. She had a purity to her snowy cloak that her heart could not see, the brightness of which could not light even the darkest corners of her heart. The female lead a completely separate life to her family, choosing her uncle over her father and following a path that he didn’t quite agree with. But as he approached her reclined frame now, he couldn’t help but notice the longing look in her gaze as she stared out across the land from the mountain peak. “You’re doing it again.” Simple words, softly spoken, but bitterness laced every edge. “I’m sorry.” He glanced away from her, gazing out in hopes to see something… anything.. To see what she might be looking at, longing for. Roman found nothing there but vast skies, valleys, slopes, mountains, winding rivers and trees. Acoustics tipped forward on his skull as he continued searching with his spheres in hopes of finding it. “You’ll never find it, Rome. You’re wasting your time.” The one person Roman had ever wanted to understand and had never been able to, was his daughter. She had an old soul, like a spirit that had been on the earth for thousands of years and was wary of life. She was wise far beyond her time, and sometimes, Roman thought, her intellect reached well beyond the elders. And to think she was only four years old.. A sigh escaped his muzzle as he swapped the beautiful view of the lands for that of his quiet daughter. Her dark green spheres shifted to the corner of her eyes to gaze at him, her body and skull unmoving in that tiny gesture of acknowledgment. Her fur quivered with the wind, as did his own, his brow furrowing. “You think too much, father..” A small smile tipped the corners of his lips as he watched her spheres shift back to the outlay of the territory. “Sometimes I believe it is you, Arista, who thinks too much.” Her lips quivered, but he gained no smile from her. The potential for one, perhaps. Easing his chassis downward until his belly lay flat against the mountain earth, he let his gaze wander and listened, hoping she might indulge him in her thoughts. But as always, she did not. “Think, no. Meditate, perhaps. Find a center of being. I do wonder though.. On life… If there is truly a purpose to it. What do you think?” He was a little surprised. Not so much at the meditation. He’d believed his daughter did it often. She was the silent, serious type. And although she had a much darker heart than himself, she was also far more pure than she would ever admit to him or anyone else. “I think… We have a purpose in the packs we’re in and I believe we have a God that created all of this, all of us in his image.. But I do not believe that we have a path set in stone…” Giving a light nod of her crown, it was his daughter who finally let a sigh escape her lips, small indication to the exhausting thoughts that reeled her mind and exasperated her. Acoustics tipped towards Arista in curiosity, but he did not ask her to elaborate on her thoughts. Long ago, he’d learned that with her, if she wanted you to know, you would and if she didn’t want you to or didn’t think there was a point, then you wouldn’t. Giving a light shrug of his shoulders, more to roll and ease up the muscles slightly, he continued to process the females question. It wasn’t easy to believe in something that might not be there, might not truly exist… To have faith in it was difficult… For his daughter, it was impossible.. She couldn’t come to terms with something unless it was physically proven to her. “It’s time I said goodbye, father.. I’m sure we’ll cross paths again.” He glanced to her as she spoke, but still, she gazed hopelessly into the vast lands surrounding their mountain territory. This goodbye was her extent of telling him she loved him. Her extent of a father-daughter goodbye and affection shared. That she’d told him at all was a slight surprise. He simple smiled and pretended he heard the three words his daughter had never said to him… Even as a weanling. Roman nodded to Nuada Setante. “I can’t thank you enough for your generosity and understanding, Nuada Setante. You have my utmost gratitude.” Giving a nod of acknowledgment and attempt to get along with the sister, Roman gave a light smile in her direction. “And to you as well, Kaelyn, for even in your mistrust, you are still being generous and understanding as well.” Glancing over his shoulder, Roman gazed in the direction of the two wolves, waiting, hoping things would go more smoothly. Surprise drew Roman’s gaze to Ozymandias’. The man had quite easily brought the young woman over and how, Roman was unsure. But he refused to question something so… amazing to him. The young forsaker was speaking to him, drawing Roman’s acoustics toward him, however, his gaze quickly shifted to Rumor and remained there. Fixed upon the young woman who creeped forward, clearly timid, but making her best effort to appear comfortable and relaxed. She did a terrible job, but she was doing amazingly at stepping forward. Nodding at Ozy, Roman let a smile cross his large mug. “I believe you’re correct, my friend.” As Ozymandias laughed, Roman couldn’t help but let a chuckle escape past his own lips. It was amusing, really. But as Ozy eased towards Rumor, Roman grew quickly wary of the boys boldness. He had clearly grown a bit of an ego.. More confidence, maybe a little too much, in how much Rumor trusted them and was moving closer. Roman’s smile left his lips, but he said nothing. Let the boy learn from his own mistakes, was his take on it. And as soon as her lips quivered, Roman knew Ozy was in trouble for his rash behavior. It was Rumor who Roman fixated his gaze upon now though. The generally timid femme was showing signs of relaxing and perhaps realizing that she wasn’t in danger here. Giving his plume a very light wag, he glanced towards Nuada and Kaelyn. They seemed to be accepting thus far and as Rumor took another step forward and gave a respectful greeting, Roman was shocked. It took a lot of muscle strength to keep his lower jaw from dropping as he finally… finally heard the femme’s voice. She was easily welcomed by Nuada and when Kaelyn smiled, Roman let his haunches recline beneath his thick frame to finally relax his muscles. Yes, this was home… This would be the place that would accept Rumor and try to help her along the way. Spotting Ozymandias kind of sitting a little on his own and just watching the interactions, Roman decided to sidle over to his young friend. “I believe that may have been a mistake on your part, Ozy, approaching her like that.” A light smirk tipped the corner of one side of his lips, acoustics tilted toward the young male. Gazing toward the other three wolves, Roman reclined upon his haunches once more and silently watched the greeting for a moment as they welcomed Rumor with open paws. “How did you do it, friend? I’ve been working on that girl longer than you have and she had yet to come near me, let alone speak.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, sliding a side glance toward Ozymandias. “I don’t seem to be having any luck with young ladies. My own daughter didn’t much care for me either.” As his mind traveled to his daughter, his lips quivered slightly. Where was she? Was she even still alive? Was she okay? Shifting his weight, he nodded to Nuada and Kaelyn, letting his voice drop slightly. “What do you think of these two? Think we found a good pack for the little lady?”

wordcount;; one thousand, two hundred, thirty-one
lyrics;; behind closed doors - rise against.

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