it falls on me
#1
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This is backdated for March 5th.

It had taken him considerably less time to return to Inferni, but a day had passed and he arrived mid-morning. Ezekiel was pleased that he would be able to drop the heavy and awkward bag of books at his den. Though the weight was not unbearable, he had not enjoyed toting them all the way up from the city. Once he had made it to his cave the coyote-hybrid plopped them down and began going through the large pile. Many were for himself and for Marlowe, but a few he had picked up specifically for his sister. They were picture books, simple things, but he figured it would be the easiest way to teach.

Without even bothering to take off his weapons or smaller side-bag, the Hastati began piling his own into a corner. The cave was without any natural shelves, but he liked it better that way. It was drier, and a nice breeze flowed through it from the sea. As he finished this task, he tossed the deer-belly sack into another corner and grabbed the thin books he intended to present to his sister.

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#2
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She'd missed him, realizing that her days without Ezekiel were colored darker and more easily noticed than any other. How she had survived for so long before was now a mystery, for he was present in the world and she was able to find his face at any time. Of course, even Ezekiel had other things to do apart from cater to his needing sister. When she awoke for her morning routine, she assumed he was still gone; for the briefest moment, she wondered if he'd left her again. It was irrational to think such a thing.

The Lykoi rose and approached the world beyond the low entrance of her cave, red eyes darting across the landscape with no real emotion locked behind the irises. The task of visiting, just to see if he was home, had come up on the schedule, and she made her way through the land in search of the den he'd claimed for himself. The path was familiar, taken without conscious realization for the direction or landmarks. Each step closer left her with a sense of appropriate comfort; the archer was a steady force in her life, giving her a wall to hide behind when necessary. And it seemed he'd returned, as she finally reached the entrance to his home.

He had piled books into a corner. Curious, she leaned forward, wonderment dancing across fae-like features. Where had he found so many books? She'd only see one or two in her lifetime, apart from the diary and bible she possessed. "I suppose you found what you were looking for, huh, Zekie?" A laugh escaped her maw, arms crossing before a thickening midriff as she studied his familiar form.


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#3
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HURRFF ZEKE. Slight powerplay with her taking the books, but YOU KNOW.

He had heard her long before she had spoken. Talitha walked against the earth, as most canines did, something he had realized after months of living on his own. Large animals tended to do so. Observing cats had changed his opinion of how to step, and though it had taken much practice, he had learned to walk with the earth and do so nearly silently. All of the Inferni coyotes sounded very loud to him, especially on their rocky terrain. Most of the Waste seemed so ill-suited for life, but it was remarkable what hid beyond their borders.

Yet Ezekiel played dumb, as he so often did, and only turned when addressed. A fond smile crossed his face, pleased to see that his sister was changing from the skinny thing she was. In time she would be healthy, though never as tall or robust as her scarred brother. “More than I expected,” he hinted mischievously, grabbing two of the thin books he had chosen for her. Both were brightly colored, by the same author that had written the one he had given to Alaine. “I brought these for you so you could start learning to read,” the Hastati went on, passing them to his rust-colored sister.

“Oh, and guess what? Turns out dad was busy while we were gone. We have a little brother and sister living down in that dog-pack,” he babbled, forgetting the name but remembering the woman’s breed.

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#4
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5pts
Poor Zeke. XD He doesn't deserve all the anger that's about to erupt on him.

Ezekiel's smile always brightened the spirits of his shadowed twin, and she appreciated his presence more than ever in the most recent days. She may not have understood the vague transformation of emotion that had happened since his return, but she did recognize how he helped her. Without Ezekiel, she was sure she'd have failed living as she had failed Inferni so frequently, leaving the golden boy with nothing but the absent father they had grown to respect. Or so she had once believed.

His gift was received with a smile, delicate rust fingers wrapping around the bindings and covers as if handling precious heirlooms. Each was brightly colored, the artwork unique, and she knew that they had once been meant for children. Ordinarily she may have been offended; had anyone else given her such a thing, she knew she would have been. But this was her brother, and she held him higher than any force otherwise known to the physical world, if not the spiritual. Childrens' books made realistic sense. She was at that level of ability in the world of literature.

At first, his following words didn't register in her mind. Dad was busy and brother and sister passed by without true recognition for a good few minutes, and then the realization hit her like the tree had. Hard and painfully. Her hands released the books and they clattered to the ground with dull force. Perhaps she had heard him wrong. Perhaps he was simply playing a cruel joke on her. "Come again?" she whispered, hoping he would say something else. She was not so ignorant to think that Gabriel had lived a life of cold celibacy since the disappearance of their mother, and she was not so young to think other children had never entered the world, but as the verbal fact was laid before her, the world grew dark.

Talitha Lykoi was still young enough to feel betrayed. Pressure enveloped her chest, lungs compressed to a point that didn't allow necessary oxygen to flood them. She'd experienced such a thing in the past, but never for something so truly trivial, for that was what it was. Gabriel de le Poer, her wondrous father, had destroyed a fragile comfort made in knowing she was his princess and there was no one else. Gabriel de le Poer deserved the anger that flooded through her veins.

But it was Ezekiel who received it.

"WHAT?!" The shrill shriek of anger exploded from the cream-hued maw of his sister, her body curling into something smaller. "You're lying. I don't believe you." The accusatory tone had never been used against the prince she loved so much, and it wounded her to think he deserved it. But she had to be right. Ezekiel was lying. She couldn't bring herself to believe that their strong, Infernian father had found comfort outside of the skull-lined borders, though she knew it was realistic. How could he? How could he replace their mother with one of them? "Why would you say something like that? Daddy's good to us; you shouldn't spread such things around."


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#5
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He barely registered her shock when the books hit the floor. Ezekiel’s brow knitted together. The Hastati opened his mouth to speak but his sister’s banshee wail caused his ears to swivel back against his blonde hair. She crumpled like a paper dragon, but her voice was fire. Without even realizing it, his own body had tensed. Gold-yellow eyes narrowed and turned sharp, vicious, as if he was now staring at a stranger. In a very real way, he believed that this girl was not the sister he imagined she had once been.

Slowly, as if he was speaking to a child, the Hastati went on. “Because they are bound to us,” he said sharply. “Her name is Alaine Winters, and her children—our siblings—carry her name, not his. They don’t even look like—“ A pause. Wolves. They didn’t even look like wolves. He knew his father would never accept that label, but after so many years of living with them, Ezekiel saw him as such. Certainly, his father was no coyote. His father was nothing but a hybrid like his misfit children.

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#6
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He reiterated his words, continuing on with names that she didn't want to know. He was wrong. Somehow, Ezekiel was wrong. He had to be wrong. She couldn't accept the truth he presented without compromising her own belief that their father was somehow a holy manifestation. Perfect. The world she'd built to offer safe haven from memories of childhood was destroyed with two simple words. Our siblings. A brother and a sister. A prince and a princess. Nausea passed over the distraught Lykoi female.

"Shut up, Ezekiel!"

The howl was followed by two quick movements, the first taking her down to grasp at one of the books and the second hurling the book at the golden male. It was mechanical, without second thought or an attempt to rationalize her actions. She just wanted to hit him with something, to stop the words that had escaped his mouth. Another book was flung across the cave. More pieces of her interior stone walls crumbled than she could put back up. "They aren't ANYTHING to us, Ezekiel! They shouldn't...be here. Oh God." An exasperated moan swept into the air, her russet fingers clutching at her still chest; breathing had become difficult, leaving her gasping for much needed oxygen. All that passed through her mind was Gabriel.


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#7
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Ezekiel barely had time to react when a book came hurtling toward his face. It struck him in the jaw and fluttered to the ground like a dying bird. Face stinging, there was a sudden and drastic change in Ezekiel’s appearance. His fur rippled from his neck to the base of his spine, hidden only by the wolverine quiver. Amber eyes darkened and narrowed to a terrible thing, furious that she had dared to strike him. This he could forgive. Afterall, he had not struck back, though his traitor hands demanded such a thing.

His lip was bleeding. The warrior rubbed the back of his hand across his jaw. Without moving further, he spoke in a voice that was low and like distant thunder. Get out.” It was not a request. Both hands had curled into fists. Ezekiel did not fear her. He feared himself, and he feared what he would do to her if she continued on like this.

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#8
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The sharp scent of blood caused all thought to leave the mind of the dark princess. The book hurled at her golden twin had hit its mark, splitting open flesh; she had meant to hurt him, but not wound him. Suddenly, all anger at her brother dissipated, leaving her with remorse for actions previously uncontrolled. "Ezekiel," she started. The name was uttered in the softest of tones, sorrow lacing the syllables as it enveloped the woman who spoke them. In misplaced rage, she'd harmed a brother who had meant no offense in telling her the truth.

Everything about him changed in one solid instant, leaving her with a furious warrior rather than compassionate sibling. She didn't fear him. She couldn't. He was Ezekiel no matter the mood, and she had faith that he would bring her no harm. However, as he spoke, she realized how foolhardy that faith was. He ordered her to leave. His hands twisted into fists. Crimson eyes watched, flooding with anxiety that triggered her need to flee. Her body twisted, and she sprinted from the cave.

Away from Ezekiel, she managed to find the right face for the blame. Gabriel. The unbalanced woman gave a huff and started a search for the dark wolf she knew as father.


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