my blood is pavement.

Kaena Lykoi · 06-15-2010, 05:16 AM

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Backdated to April 24th (327)

It was rare for Kaena to venture outside of her clan's borders these days. She had barely stepped foot out of Inferni since the fall of last year; she had returned to the city just once, and she had not ventured further than that. Though there was no more obvious fear in the hybrid, no overpowering sense of dread within her, some of it still lurked in the back of her mind. It would remain until the monster had fallen, and maybe even beyond that—the silver-shaded coyote could not say for sure what happened beyond death. She did not know if Haku would wait for her in the afterlife, plotting and gleefully biding his time. Salvaged might still be there for her, too—maybe she would pay for that yet.

Even so, the silver-hued woman knew in her heart she could not hunt him again. She could not lock teeth with him and hope to walk away unscathed—it had nearly killed her the first time, and maybe she was still lucky to have walked away with her life the second time. It killed her to think of herself as having been lucky during the fall; the silver-hued coyote could not think this without the distinctive twinge of bitterness across her tongue, one that made her want to spit and scratch at her own skin. She had resisted the latter urge well up to this point—self-deprecation had not been a part of the scarred woman for a very long time.

The quiet of the meadow at the center of the clan's territory was interrupted with only the occasional screech of a late hawk; though the sun was low on the horizon, a few still lingered, hoping to catch a lucky meal before they slept and the owls took over the skies for the night. The coyote woman walked through this territory aimlessly, following the river's lazy and jagged edge as she went, lost in thought.

Gabriel de le Poer · 06-15-2010, 10:38 AM

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     Life had returned to a pattern, but for Gabriel, the structure that war and battle brought had left. He felt useless, doing nothing of any particular importance, existing only because he still drew breath. Certainly, he had aspirations—to chase down and kill Haku, mainly. A heavy chain, one which bound him to Inferni, refuted this demand and laughed at him. There was nothing he could do. Inferni would not survive without him. This he believed as certainly as he believed himself to have chosen the side of coyote blood, and it infuriated him.
     Gabriel woke from a fretful nightmare, one that faded as suddenly as it had come. He did not recall the dream, only that there had been something terrible that came at him, something that drove him to wake with a start. Unwilling to face whatever terrible thing this was, the coy-wolf rose from his den and staggered out into the twilight. This too, was a pattern. Very rarely did Gabriel roam during the days, which were either too wet or too humid, and he reasoned that it would be easier for his mother to see during daylight hours. Though he would never say it to her face, he believed that her blind eye was a larger disadvantage then she would ever admit.
     Driven by thirst, he traveled north east, still unwilling to drink from the water that now formed Inferni’s southern border. He came to the river and lowered his face to it, lapping greedily up the cool liquid. Above him, a hawk wheeled and cried out, though the Aquila ignored the disturbance and continued at his task.

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Kaena Lykoi · 06-29-2010, 04:33 AM

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Word Count :: 324 I LUV U

In all ways, Gabriel's knowledge that Inferni would not continue with him was true; the silver-shaded hybrid, sure to replace him as his second, had proven twice before that she was unfit for leadership, and now it was far too late in her life for a third time twilight. As much as she had calmed in her age, with that calm had come fuzziness and a lack of sharpness that she had known in her younger years. No longer was her mind as focused as it had once been, and no longer was she as ruthless—this was proven by her very continued presence on the inside of the clan's borders. A younger Kaena would not have stopped until Haku was in pieces or she was; this had played out before with Salvaged, and now she lurked within the clan's perimeter, too shit-scared to travel back to the city, too afraid of that dank library and that awful room. She would never go back there, but she should have been able to at least travel about—now she could have hardly ventured beyond the edge of the Dampwoods without an escort.

A familiar scent caught the scarred woman's attention, and she lifted her head, slowing to a stop and altering her course almost immediately. There was no pressing need to see Gabriel, true—even so, they had seen less and less of one another since the war's end. With the quiet surrounding them, there was no need to report to one another and no need to gather at the burned once-edge of their territory. The silver-shaded woman continued forward, backtracking along her course until she came upon him drinking in the river. She came forward slowly, though certainly not sneakily—she had made more than enough noise during her approach to keep from surprising him. The sable-furred woman settled to her haunches behind him, politely waiting until he had finished drinking to greet him.

Gabriel de le Poer · 07-04-2010, 11:28 PM

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Though Inferni had thrived and grown strong under his watch, it was now as it had been before—weak and faltering. With the season as it was, he was not surprised. Summer meant prosperity for the land, and with it, an abundance of prey. Coyotes, by and large solitary things, could not be blamed for wishing to live alone. Gabriel would not stop them. He did not hope to demand servitude from disloyal, selfish people. This was how he had always survived. Inferni, Scintilla, it was no different.

Black ears swiveled and rose to a crown. His eyes moved first, followed by his head, and rose from the water. There was yet grace in his scarred figure, which in the weeks and months to come would certainly bear more scars and stories, as it turned to face her. Despite the fact he was her son, they looked nothing alike—save their eyes. Raptor’s eyes, filled with terrible fire. Gabriel’s, perhaps, holy and righteous. Above all others he would bathe in the blood of the wicked and lay them down, hallelujah, amen.

He said nothing, only regarded his mother with that ever piercing, quiet stare.

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Kaena Lykoi · 07-13-2010, 03:50 PM

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failsie is fail

For her weakness, there was no punishment; self-loathing and blame seemed the extent of that. She had not failed in her duties, not since the beginning of the war—she had done enough to keep her place within the clan. Even so, in her deepest subconscious the silver-shaded canine knew she had not done enough. She had not pursued him, she had not left the clan to place herself in danger rather than them. Would Haku have even chased her? She did not know; his hatred might have focused on her, or it might have been more important to him to destroy Inferni. The silver-shaded woman could not guess at his motivations and she did not want to; she, of all creatures, was least immune to the infectious darkness lurking in him.

Her own eyes, whole and complete and embedded into a face that might have belonged to a stranger, gazed at her. For all of the reflections of herself she saw in her children and grandchildren, there was none here—Ahren reflected more clearly in his son's features than his mother's, certainly. He was silent—no trouble, no news, no fucking change. Disappointment reflected on the scarred canine's features, though this was not disappointment in her son—how could she hold against him what she herself was not capable of doing?

Gabriel de le Poer · 07-29-2010, 10:35 PM

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500+
     Nothing would ever be enough. Even if both of them had laid their lives down in the service of this clan, it would not be enough. The fear and the hate was too great for them to ignore it, or to believe they were within the realm of power to change such a thing. Gabriel did not doubt that he would never see true peace within his lifetime—for threats came from both in and outside of Inferni constantly. If they cut down one monster, another would rise in his place. This was the way of things, as it always had been, and as it always would be.
     He saw her face fall and his jaw set. Gabriel was a hard man. He had been cut out of stone by tooth and claw and made rough by desert winds. This was perhaps why, despite as doggish as he appeared, it was the wolf that he had always resembled the most. Within him the coyote had become wicked as it needed to be, but the wolf had given his body strength. Perhaps long before he had realized it, his blood had recognized the need for such things. Gabriel was, after all, made of royal blood and royal blood knows of its destiny even if it is never told. God had chosen his path and formed him this way. God had made certain that Gabriel would be strong enough to face the devils that came in the faces of his brothers and his greatest enemy.
     His mother had made herself queen through conquest. She was still a barbarian, and still as vicious as ever, but he saw the change in her that perhaps her enemies did not. Between the time he had known her as a boy and now, Kaena was fading. She was in the twilight of her years and would soon become useless on the battlefield. He could not afford for her to risk the history of everything he had known much longer. She and she alone carried within her the tales of Inferni and of those who had come and gone with it.
     He wondered, as he regarded her, if she perhaps forgot sometimes that she was a living relic. In doing so, his thoughts traveled to her children and his siblings, scattered to the four corners of the world as they were. As a boy he had believed that nothing would ever change. Since then, he had exiled two of his kin, scarred one as a madman, and killed the third. This too, was perhaps the destiny of all royal blood.
     Gabriel spoke to his mother as he always did, in that quiet and reserved tone, telling her things that he was certain she knew all ready. He confided within her his fear of a successor, lamenting on his son’s absence. The Aquila used few words, though they were carefully chosen and measured, for he knew their weight. The air was heavy with them, but in speaking he felt this same weight leave his shoulders if only for the moment, and was relieved.

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Kaena Lykoi · 08-05-2010, 09:52 PM

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Word Count :: 428

In another universe, in another time, the silver-shaded coyote would not have stopped for a moment to rest until he was dead, but as it was, there was terror and terrible knowledge both in her—she simply could not, and she damn well knew it. She had been lucky the first time, and in a sick and twisted way, lucky the second time, though she herself would never have refered to such an occurrence as luck. In the interim, the scarred woman had wished for death the second time—it would have been a far kinder fate than what had befallen her last autumn.

It was her own fault she could see herself in no other way; as old as she was, the silver-shaded coyote was hopelessly set in her ways—she was incapable of changing at this point. It had been many, many years she had been living in this fashion, running with Inferni and fighting the various devils who reared their heads. Maybe she was simply destined to do this until she died, for Kaena certainly saw no other way to live; neither did she see any better use for herself. To the scarred woman herself, age and longevity were merely signs of conquest over her long-fallen enemies. She had prevailed, she had lived, and they were bones and dirt.

The silver-shaded hybrid's words were just as carefully picked as her son's, quiet and reserved in the same manner. Verbally, little actually passed between them, but the nuances and minutiae of the conversation was lost on neither. They did not need to speak volumes to one another to communicate. Perhaps this was something they shared as kin, or perhaps not—dissimilar as they were, they reflected one another, complemented and understood one another. Their differences were not so great that there was hate between them; the ancient silver canine could not definitively say for her son, but for her, there had never been anything but love.

Gabriel de le Poer · 08-14-2010, 10:15 PM

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     Like his mother, Gabriel was past the point of change. He had grown up with war and with conflict and been shaped out of it. Chaos and order were equal parts of his being. Gabriel could slaughter with indifference just as he could reasonably sympathize with an opponent. Yet before all things he was a warrior. It was his duty to defend those who could not defend themselves. He had failed, and he had failed many times over, yet his victories were great.
     Gabriel had once hated his parents. He had hated them because he was a boy who was lost, who was only a few miles from his home, and he was starving in fresh air. They had not come for him. Yet as he had matured he had grown to understand why. His father had spoken to him many times since he had become a man. This was when Gabriel had realized he was mad. Ahren was sick long before the disease took him. Despite this, Ahren had dedicated himself to his son’s cause, offered him everything in those last days, and Gabriel had accepted this. It was his father’s unspoken display of love. He could never be the father Gabriel needed.
     Kaena had always loved him, and Gabriel knew this even when she rose a hand against him. She alone was given that right. No one had ever struck him without retribution, not even a child. This alone was proof of his love. The fact he wore her sign and carried his father’s name was further proof of his love for them. They spoke only a little longer, and then sat in silence together. They were comfortable in the silence. Several long moments passed—maybe half an hour, maybe an hour—before they parted ways.

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