01-17-2010, 03:46 PM
[html]http://i950.photobucket.com/albums/ad34 ... bott0m.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; padding-bottom:240px; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#252237">
 Jantus heard her words, and his expression hardened as he listened. So...he learned it from someone else, did he, a mentor? That made sense. There had been various theories among the resistance members as to where he and Twilight had learned to fight. Some called them geniuses, implying that all of the expertise had come from within them. Others had made up stories about uncovered knowledge from the age of humans. He'd even heard some spiritual explanations, that their leaders had been heaven-sent to answer the threat posed by the maniacal priests of shadow. The leader and sergeant, Skoll and Twilight respectively, had very different styles, though the effect was generally the same. They made very good spearheads when the group was on the attack, and very good bulwarks when the group needed to hold its ground. In Skoll's case, he had some leadership potential (though not quite the presence of most alphas...he didn't seem to wear the authority perfectly, but he had clearly been in mass combat before), which was, if anything, more important than his fighting ability, if a little less inspirational. The confirmation of the 'forbidden knowledge' explanation seemed to answer the question very well in the old male's case. He'd learned it from someone, who had learned it from someone else...probably a society of wolves, though this only passed the mystery's beginnings into someone else's hands, as it still didn't explain how the skills had been developed in the first place, either the result of generations, or one true genius for whom all the cockamamy resistance stories actually applied. "That makes sense...in more ways than one." He answered, finally. "I don't think you can generate that kind of ability in one lifetime...in the Pine, everyone improves because they live in a community of warriors. I guess it's possible that wherever these people came from, it was like my home but with a longer tradition...could be that everyone from over there is just on a different level. I've heard that werewolves haven't had run of the world for too long, but if these people have been living like this since near the beginning, I could see it happening." His brows were still furrowed. It was a bit too troubling to think of an entire society like the Pine, far older, with far more accumulated skill as a culture, possibly far more numerous. More comforting to think that maybe it was an old, very exclusive order...after all, if they guarded their secrets so jealously, there couldn't be that many of them, could there? As a life-long fighter, it intrigued him, but as an alpha it was very perturbing. "Just reckless, or overly optimistic, I guess." He went on. "Maybe overly idealistic." He shook his head soberly, before looking back her way and providing his wan smile again. "You know, he left Storm...that was his original home in these parts, I heard...to come lead an army against a group of religious zealots. That's how we met him in the Pine: all torn up after fighting a whole gang of them; standing there with a broken wrist and telling us that he intended to lead everyone willing to hunt down the heart of the faith and destroy it. Most other people who'd come with him had known someone who'd been sacrificed by these fanatics--nasty business, that--but we were just impressed with him at the Pine, this wolf acting brash like a yearling despite the age and hundred scars marking his skin, but with a bearing that told us he was spurred on by great need. We sent a dozen of our number with him to clean up what we assumed would be a small group of murderers...we were very wrong." His voice sank. "I was one of the twelve, and Skoll showed us all the difference between what we'd been doing at the Pine and true war. Not a person there--not even Skoll, I think--had ever tread so deep into the dark...it was hell, but he held us together as we went deeper and deeper into it, unwilling to turn back until we were finished." Even for him, whose strength was renowned throughout the valley where he lived, this event had been profound. The horror and courage they had all found there had been a singular event in their lives, and in the history of the region. "The cult wasn't so bad when it came to fighting, you know? But what they did if they caught you...that was what paralyzed everyone around them with fear. Some members of the resistance fled in the face of that, but as it became clear that our leader wouldn't abandon us, and that he had a strong center of support that wouldn't abandon him, others began joining in, swelling our ranks, seizing on the chance to exterminate these monsters." He looked down at his hands. "Ten of the twelve that we'd sent with him didn't come back. Samson and I were the only two, which made me alpha, since Bold, our existing leader, had also demanded to go, and had fallen. The stories that we brought back, though, well...they guaranteed Skoll a place of honor in our pack for all time. Still, in the end, he decided to go back to Storm rather than be a hero in any of the number of packs he had helped protect." Here, Jantus looked at Tayui and tilted his head. His smile was thin. He couldn't help but feel that Skoll would have been safe in the Pine, still alive, even though he didn't blame Tayui for the gold wolf's decision. "He must have had some very good friends here to come back to." |