Bullet in the Barrel
#1
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Word Count » +


ooc: borgata tocatl, late afternoon/dusk (whenever Tlantli has left). Siri met Itachi, then Pan, then he had to deal with getting Eris her owl. BUSY DAY FOR SIRI.


Finally, silent footpaws were carrying him North, to where the Thistle King knew the Arbiter would be playing around with his newest toy.


The sun was falling, the air getting cooler and crisper as he foot paws. The day had been a busy one, but it was far from over, yet - He would have to make a log of the items that had been brought back, some form of treasury to record the success of this trading trip, so as to maintain it for the next one. He would use the jewel-bird feather that Pan had given him - It would be perfect for using as a quill in his small bottle of black ink.


The feather had been the least of the ebony boy's gifts. Man - Sirius corrected himself, a tight smile curving up the ends of black lips - Ebony man, for he had completed his tasks well. The proof of it was currently clasped in both hands, gingerly, carefully. It was a pouch made from cured ewe intestine, a small back stuffed with soft wool clippings. A long strip of cord looped around his neck, but Sirius did not trust the hide to hold the bag smoothly, and it was obvious that he did not want its contents to be jostled around. Nobody who knew the Thistle King would have ever seen him display such obvious care before, for his attention was almost totally focused on the bundle in his palms, and he moved slowly to keep it smooth.


Regardless of the slow pace, the Monarch reached his destination at sunset, where the bleary light still lit the thin scattering of pines well enough. Large ears flickered back and forth - Sirius could hear the horses, but not yet see them, nor the barn. "Arbiter?" The proud baritone swell of his voice summoned the man, olive eyes glancing up from the bundle (which had begun to make suspicious cheeping noises) to cast about the area as he came upon the newly-made building.


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#2
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pray to your god, open your heart

+5. Evening works great for me! Smile

It had taken the entirety of the day for the horse to become presentable. He had scrubbed her hard with cold water, washing away the filth of the trip, and Rowan had done a fine job with the creature’s mane. Tlanti’s interruption had been brief, and did not hinder his progress. In the latter half of the morning he had sent Rowan to fetch food, and eaten while the mare was kept inside her stall. The fawn was a new surprise, but it had the markings of Salvia’s work all over it and therefore was left untouched.

Once he had eaten, he had moved onto the task of cleaning the animal’s hooves. He had never truly worried about this but made certain to pick away the large chunks of dirt that might cause any injury to the animal. Without shoes, these horses had grown hardy feet that withstood the trials of the wilderness. This one would do fine; she was not as stocky as his own mount, but still larger than the stallion. Her feet were not as dainty as his, but they would adapt. Though he did not polish the hooves, he ensured they were as clean as they could be. Satisfied, he had left the horse inside and gone to retrieve the sheep.

For this task he traveled four-legged, and moved with great ease. He was a creature built for power and distance, though his endurance would pale against a smaller built canine. It was an easy task to herd the sheep, for he simply had to begin pushing the rams towards the barn with several sharp growls and they would go. Animals of habit, the sheep recognized that night meant danger, and so safety and food could be found if they went back to the pen.

He wrangled them in and resumed his two-legged body. A pile of tall grass and berries was tossed into the pen, where the sheep began to eat. It was nearly time to bring the horses in. Larkspur retreated back towards the tack room to begin the process of cleaning saddles when the call came. His ears turned, head following suit, and within an instant his path was redirected. It did not take long to find Sirius, though the man was an earthen shadow against the twilight. Larkspur, his own pelt taking on the deep hues of the falling sun, approached with ease.

In custom, he greeted the Boss by brushing his own massive jaw against the hybrid’s, and dropped his head in a considerable would-be bow. Orange eyes fell to the pouch in the King’s hands, his ears betraying that they had caught the soft noises from within. Today was just full of surprises, it seemed. One massive foot shifted back to allow Larkspur to stand more easily, for he did his best to shrink his body when around the Hunter-King. “Boss,” he greeted, using the formal title. He found it simple, and without flair; this was why he preferred to call Sirius by that name as opposed to “Sire” or “King”.

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#3
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Word Count » +


He did not have to wait long. Larkspur came quickly, a darker shadow than those cast around him. The man's grizzled grey maw and glowing orange eyes stood out enough that poisonous olive did not have long to search. At the sight of that submissive jack-o-lantern gaze, some of the tension and irritability faded from within Sirius. Something about the Arbiter was reassuring to the Thistle King - his dependability, perhaps. Maybe the fact that he had saved the monarch's life. Maybe, he had been keenly aware of Salsola's sudden vulnerability without the mammoth male around. Whatever it was, Larkspur was greeted with a low growl-like purr of contentment, a rare sound from the usually detached, slick ruler.


When predatorial pumpkin gaze lingered on the pouch clasped in his hands, Sirius instinctively stiffened, strangely protective of the bundle. His posture remained stiff as the D'Angelo male rubbed under bearded muzzle in greeting - Silently claiming the small bag and its cheeping contents, his body language warning the larger male subconsciously to leave the small wool-lined bag untouched.


However, a toothy grin welcomed the Arbiter back to his home soil, black lips lifting away charmingly from glistening yellow daggers. "Larkspur. I am glad to see your safe return - Unharmed," he added the last bit with a flash of the previous irritability, recalling Itachi's slight injury as he spoke. The slaves had been entrusted to his Protege, however, and no blame would be placed for their misgivings on the broad and ox-strong shoulders of the D'Angelo man.


Finding his spirits lifted surprisingly by the meeting with Larkspur's son, and now the behemoth himself, Sirius stepped lithely toward the well-hidden stables, trusting Larkspur to fall in step alongside him. "I am keen to see the bounty of our trade. I trust you've done well?" Acidic eyes slid sidelong to soak in the larger male's expression. He paused at the barn entry, waiting to be shown to the goods.


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#4
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pray to your god, open your heart

I had to sneak in and reply to this at work. zomgsirilove.

Larkspur had been to Freetown once before; he had stolen his horse from the place a long time ago. Misery had taken them south before they came to ‘Souls, desiring to see if any of her children still lingered. He disliked the place, and its bustling people, but his size and feral nature kept most at bay. Itachi had been the one to deal with most of their business, though it was Larkspur who had made the trade for the horse. He had heard rumors of the breeders in the area, but those same rumors told him that they would not take an unbroken mare. So another man, one whom Larkspur had quickly “won over” with his aggressive tactics, offered up his own horse for the AniWaya mustang.

He caught the unspoken warning and ignored the pouch. Whatever was inside of it was clearly not of his concern. Both ears turned slightly at the mention of the wounds suffered by Itachi. Larkspur had been unable to assist, for the other men had abandoned their mounts and prizes when they chased down the slaves. To join them would have been foolish.

At Sirius’ movement, Larkspur joined him. He kept a curious pace, allowing the earthen-hued hybrid to lead. Dominance, as always, played out keenly in this place. Only when the Thistle King halted did Larkspur advance, passing into the barn and towards one of his rustic stalls. “This new horse rides well. She’s fast—faster than your stallion,” he admitted, having watched them since the return. He looped a lead into the leather halter Rowan had fashioned, and brought out his prize.

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#5
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Word Count » 3+


The man walked at his heels, large bulk hunched somewhat. If Sirius noticed, he did not remark on it - Their rankings had been fastened that day on the mountain, when bearclaw had taken his tail, and almost his life. Something as secure as stone had been fashioned between the two men, that day; A chemical understanding, a balance that lingered in the primate heritage of their blood as much as it did in the wakeful mind.


It was perhaps because of this that Sirius trusted Larkspur, almost implicitly. Not many could aim for such a feat from the Thistle King, who dwelled often in the depths of his own suspicion and paranoia. Trusted friends were far and few between. But the ebony D'Angelo male, although physically well capable of defeating the leaner monarch, had accepted his place as submissive. There was something about the Revlis man capable of such a thing - Something only seen in the sheer genius of his acidic olive eyes, the strange feralness to that wicked Cheshire smile.


Larkspur slid past him at the entrance to the barn, and Sirius watched with curious eyes as the man spoke, his guttural tone affirming what the King had already suspected. The D'Angelo's size and sheer menace alone would have played him well with the merchants at Freetown, and there was little doubt within Sirius that the prize he had returned with was far better than the mare he had departed with.


The horse was led out, paraded on halter before sharp olive gaze. It shimmered silver in places, with lightly gilded mane and tail glossy from an expert grooming. Unable to resist, the dark man stepped closer to the beautiful mare, running the clawed fingers of one hand over the beast's glossy neck and shoulder. "You've done exceptionally," His voice was almost a croon, narrowed pupils taking in all details of the animal. Although not as knowing in horsemanship as Larkspur, Sirius was no fool, and he could recognize handsome horseflesh when it was provided. The cheeping bag, previously clutched as though it held gold, was cautiously held out towards the salt and pepper male. "Hold this," His voice was clipped, resonants of that similar warning bubbling within it. The contents of the bag were clearly very valuable to the Thistle King, but he wished to take the mare's halter and lead her around, and could not do so without temporarily relinquishing it.


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#6
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pray to your god, open your heart

It pleased him to present this living mercurial beast to the Thistle King. Larkspur was not a creature who saw horses, or cats, or any sort of animal as a “pet”. The mare was chosen for her color, as the pale mane was what Sirius admired. Her speed was a further, far more useful trait and the true reason he had chosen a silver-gray thing over one of the white horses. If Sirius truly wished to create his own perfect breed, they would need more than a pretty pelt. Even his own mate had been chosen for these simplistic needs first. Eris contained magic; Eris’ curvaceous body meant she would bear healthy, multiple children. Her inability to fend for herself and her childish attitude were things that came with the package.

Orange eyes watched, pleased, at Sirius’ reaction. He was proud to have delighted the Boss. While his mission had not been as dire as Itachi’s, he had also not failed as the Protégé had. Even Pandemic had returned with a prize, one that the Arbiter now gingerly took from his leader. Pale hands clutched the bag as carefully as if it might be a fragile thing—he knew what it was that was hidden in the bag, though he had not seen it since Pandemic had shown him the grand bird. His attention remained focused on the Boss alone, though he was keeping well aware of the pouch in his large, ungraceful hands.

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#7
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Word Count » 3+


The parcel was carefully deposited in the D'Angelo man's large, padded palms. For a moment, gaze lingered on it - Waiting until another Tangelo cheep reassured him that the chick within had settled itself. Larkspur seemed well aware of his alpha's desire for the safety of the hatchling - His large frame looked almost comical, so carefully cradling the pouch in hugely-clawed hands.


A smile twitched at the corner of black lips, but barely, before his attention returned to the mare. She was a delightful creature, strongly build with the long legs of a graceful runner. Gentle eyes watched the luperci as he moved about her head, gently blowing on flared pink-tinged nostrils, allowing the mare to catch his own scent. She seemed well used to the presence of this sometimes-hunters, obedient to each tug of the halter as the Thistle King slowly moved her about in an absent circle.


The dapples on her haunches appealed to him, as did those on the hide of the mare he had taken from the D'Angelo's sister. However, this creature was far more splendid, with her silvery appearance. It was as though moonlight itself had been fashioned into a steed, with flowing mane and tail and perfectly arched neck. Sirius was entranced. "She is mine," He said, in a low tone so as not to spook the creature, "I have given your son the stallion - He passed his rites, and is an adult, now." Fiercely intelligent eyes darted to the Arbiter, keen to see his reaction to such news, before continuing. "Once the others have foaled, you will breed her, yes? Her handsomeness appeals to me, and I would like to see it in her offspring," He mused, clucking to the mare so that she turned to face him.


"Chiaro di luna," Came the King's silky tones towards his newest beloved toy, an amused smile spreading as the mare's cupped ears flicked eagerly towards his voice. "Light of the moon, Arbiter. Yes, you have done well. Very well, indeed," Abruptly, he turned, those poisonous sights trailing the other man thoughtfully a moment. "Have you a reward in mind for yourself, man?" The strange charm to his tone suggested nothing. Perhaps it would please Siri to reward such loyalty.


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#8
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pray to your god, open your heart

Orange eyes observed the movements of both animals carefully. Sirius was predictable—the horse was not. Yet she had been well chosen; she was docile and eager to obey and thus suitable for the dark ruler. While Black was a prize stallion, he was unruly. No doubt Sirius was capable of controlling him, but he deserved to have an eager mount and not one that fought him. The mare took in this semi-familiar scent easily enough, and for this, Larkspur was glad. Furthermore, he was practically beaming (as someone who resembles a bear could; awkwardly) at the claim from the King about his boy. Now both his children were adults, and both would ascend to heights that they never could have within the depths of Anathema.

A low nod was given at the mention of breeding, equally glad that Sirius would wait. While Black had been keenly interested in the mare, Larkspur would not allow him to mount her. A foal born before winter would take a great deal of care, and the Nova Scotia weather was unpredictable. Spring would be best. He scarcely had time to consider this when the dark hunter spoke a new name to the horse, who seemed to respond to it. Only one word was remembered with any ease, and this was the name he tucked away to use when working with her. Luna.

The dark wolf blinked stupidly at the final question. No reward had been considered. His role was set within the pack. He did not need to prove himself to Sirius, nor had he gone to Freetown to gain anything. This was his duty. Obedience required no reward. “I did not expect one,” he answered honestly, looking towards the ground.

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#9
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Word Count » 3+


There was a strange pride that swelled within the chest of the King as he watched his Arbiter's reaction to the news about Pandemic. Having accepted the boy into adulthood just hours earlier, Sirius knew that his personal acceptance of both man and son would hold great sway for their place within the pack. Pandemic D'Angelo had much promise within him - Like his father, the boy seemed to be a simplistic creature, more attuned to the ways of the hot-blood than of the mind. The Thistle King hoped that this would lend itself towards an unfaltering devotion, such as the one he received from the Arbiter, but the thoughts of having to conquer another bear just to re-prove himself was not appealing. Hopefully, the ebony boy would follow in the footsteps of his sire and his sister, who both seemed to have accepted Sirius into their hearts and minds as unfailing lord and King.


His own mirth was mild in comparison to the quick smile that covered the face of the D'Angelo male, but it was true mirth nonetheless - An emotion that the Thistle King experienced rarely, if much at all. The mixture of pleasure and amusement was as appealing to him as the mare, and his generosity swelled. "Of course you did not, faithful Arbiter. That does not mean that you do not deserve one, however," With a few long steps he trotted the grey back to the Arbiter, passing the man the halter, and reaching for his own precious parcel.


A thoughtful hum echoed huskily in the back of his throat as the monarch observed his follower, those sharp venomous eyes making quick darting movements across the man's bear-like face. "I discipline, true, but let it be known that your King can also be a generous man," Came the succulent growl, a hand rising to lift on the bulky mass of Larkspur's right shoulder. "Would you have another slave? Perhaps, a weapon? Leniency - Is there something you would have me turn a blind eye to? A sin you would have me forgive? Loose your tongue, Larkspur, for there must be something you desire, however simple." Options poured from his maw like wine from a well-opened casket.


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