Out of Character, Word Count, Etc.
If there was one regret Pripyat Soul had when he left Phoenix Valley it was simply that he had not said a proper farewell to his father. The two stubborn men had managed to avoid each other in the days when Phoenix Valley prepared for their move, and Pripyat Soul had marched off of Phoenix Valley with Arye Cybelle by his side and no other thought in his head. That he wouldn't see his father again did not cross his mind, Pripyat was sure that sooner or later one of them would cave, seek the other out, give a gruff "how are you doing?" Eventually. For now he only had the future on his mind. The future only consisted of Arye. It did not matter where they were, so long as they were. They together.
When they arrived after the long and rarely quiet trek, Pripyat first went to tending to the animals brought with the Valley member. Even as Razekiel and Nayru began to jabber about fresh beginnings and new homes, Pripyat moved to tying the horses and cows up. Prip had brought nothing with him to the new home but made himself responsible for the task of keeping the animal rounded together and he wasn't willing to pause and listen to the girl and hippy speak until he knew them to be safe. It had been tricky, but the other Valley members had been willing to help and not a soul had been left behind. Not one tiny chicken. When they all seemed secured for the night the boy turned back to the others, ocean eyes making out all the silhouettes in the dim lighting.
First his eyes went to Arye, who seemed to be immersing herself immediately with the other clan. She stood next to the two toned woman Nayru and Pripyat studied them together for a moment, both women's faces washed with an expression of excitement and vigor. The Ryu was hardly older than he or Arye, maybe a few months older, but suddenly he her too young. Had Jefferson handed Phoenix Valley to him he would have crumpled under the pressure, certainly he was not fit to run a pack, was she? And Razekiel reminded him in no way of Jefferson, except that he was the Patriarch of the family, their father in a sense. Although Razekiel had come from the Valley members, he too still was almost a stranger. It seemed just a month before he was so sure he would never leave the Valley or his father's side and now everything was strange and unfamiliar. Even his leaders.
Yet soon enough the strangeness would become common place and Pripyat knew if doubts still floated in the minds of any of the members, the doubts would die a little each day until contentment took their place. Flashing an encouraging smile that Arye did not need but received none the less, Pripyat pulled his eyes away from her and towards the others. Of the ex –Dahlians he only knew one, and that was Melee Soul. They were, in some way, cousins. Or at least Melee had insisted—but she only guessed that because of their names. Pripyat had thought the younger girl cute on her brief visit to the Valley and as he moved past the group he waved silently to her, blue eyes skimming over her father and uncle as he brushed past them. He nodded at the Valley members, Temo, Jace, Noah, Adonia... all of them were accustomed to his brooding ways and words were unneeded just then. Moving off to the woods he began to collect dry branches and sticks, bundling them in his arm until the pile grew tall and heavy.
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