Postdated to July 19th, PV's first anniversary!
All PV members welcomed!
Jefferson's first stumble onto Phoenix Valley lands had been both unfortunate and belated. It had been mid-September at that time and he'd been a starved, socially irresponsible freak that had collapsed on the borders without a second thought. His senses had been dulled at the time due to his emaciated body; the brute left his skin-and-bones body on the ground without the mental nor instinctive capacity to know better. Though there had been some dispute between leaders, they had taken him in, fed him, provided sanctuary. He'd never intended to stay. Jefferson, still a loner at heart, had only meant to stay until he could carry himself with a full stomach and then sneak off in the night, but he never had. He developed friendships. He mentored children and adults alike. He was forced into situations and responsibilities he'd never wanted nor expected and sailed through them smoothly. As old as he was, he grew up.
The pack's first birthday, though his arrival was a few months later, sneaked up on him with hardly any notice. Iskata had always been excited for it, as she had everything else, growing anxious for the date even half a year before. She'd always been zealous when it came to the pack she'd founded, a trait her fellow leaders had lacked at first glance and Jefferson himself couldn't bring himself to possess. He had inherited the pack from the fallen Matriarch and her coyote-hating Shaman, forced into a leadership position he'd never asked for but was thrust into despite. Dozens of faces had come and gone in the time he'd spent in Phoenix Valley. All three original finders and their two companions had disappeared, died, or moved onto new and better things. Iskata was dead, Deuce was... well, he didn't much care, and the cyclops had hardly a chance to meet Hel before she'd run off with her mate. As the cyclops stood in the fresh air outside the ranch in a brief lapse of sun between showers, he quietly recalled bouts with Lucifer, his first (rather bumpy) meeting with DaVinci, his conflicts with she-thing Allegro, even his first argument with the olive-eyed dreamer he'd later fall in love with.
Most of them were gone. Iskata, Deuce, Hel; they were gone. Miriette, his own daughter, had left without a single goodbye, even after so much diligence working on the treehouse she'd tried to belong in. Lucifer, that pain in his side, was thankfully out of his hair. And like the rest, DaVinci had parted ways with his pack as well. Jefferson had watched his slow downward spiral; the two had always been rivals of sorts, but hearing from the silver-furred hybrid that he had to depart was heartwrenching even for a stone-faced cyclops. His children had returned to him, if not just briefly (Jefferson had always suspecting Ty was DaVinci's favorite), but not even Ty could bind DaVinci to a pack he could no longer understand or lead. Phoenix Valley probably had no idea he was gone. No, he'd left right before their celebrations could even begin.
The sun would not last long; dark clouds loomed over the ocean and threatened an evening of ceaseless downpour. Jefferson exhaled sunlight deep into his lungs and released a gentle howl into the air. It was no call to action, just a simple reminder. He'd planned some sort of bonfire, but the ground was far too wet from days on end of constant rain, so perhaps a traditional gathering would suffice. There were news to make either way, new faces for the pack to befriend, and a year's worth of days for the pack to celebrate.