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ames de le mort. can it be set for the 16th?
The snow didn't stick here. The earth was warmer somehow, and the air thick, so the flakes didn't last long. It was a light snow, anyway; it really didn't matter.
Endymion didn't really know why he was there, on the very outskirts of Bleeding Souls. Perhaps it was because he was thinking. He had done so for past week. He had been wrapped up in thought for days, staring blankly into the gray distance or else absently patroling the borders of Jaded Shadows. He rarely spoke, except to report on the inactivity of the territory to the other Wahrers. It could easily be said that he was in a rut, and he figured it was most-likely winter's fault.
The red wolf sat on a rather large tree, fallen and dead, carving into the dry bark. It was an aimless design, swirling and twisting about itself, growing in size as the minutes passed. He was thinking, of course, as he carved. His thoughts traveled from Awenasa to his journey with Alarice, and the design grew. Where had she gone? He didn't have an answer, so he continued to carve and think. He thought about first arriving at Jaded Shadows, and meeting his mother again. The design swirled beautifully and deeply, expanding, as he remembered meeting his new siblings for the first time. As he thought of meeting Sedition, and as the thoughts turned to Salvaged, he carved jagged and shallow lines. After a moment he paused, looking away from the design. How very complicated everything was.
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that works for me 
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It was shaping up to be quite an odd day. She'd spent most of it feeling lost amongst the snow, while knowing where she was the whole time, and now the snow was much lighter and Legacy was truly lost. She'd been incautious in her wandering - braving the river-ice, marching into the unknown north-westerly lands. She'd assumed she'd be able to retrace her steps, follow her own scent or pawprints - but of course, the new falling snow covered up much of this. She'd only noticed a few minutes ago, and was feeling the first twinge of unease. Walking along a thin passage between two rock-faces, she swallowed nervously - again, again those hated recollections, walls all around her...
Losing her poise for a minute she sped into a wild run, eyes fixed on the gap at the end of the crevice and scattering snow, burst out, hair in disarray and heart beating wildly. Clutching her own forearms, she took a look behind as if to reassure herself she hadn't been chased, and then started off walking again. Here, there was no snow but a slight powdering of the grey air. The few trees dotted around gave no solace. They were all dead. Where was she?
Relief wasn't the word for noticing a familiar figure perched on a particularly big tree just downhill from her. Her brother; she knew him immediately, even from this angle. The world was safe again, indeed already she felt foolish. Legacy made for him with haste, but slowed as she neared; he was busy with something. As softly as she was able the girl padded up beside him, angling her gaze to his work. An intricate pattern, drawn into the very flesh of the dead tree. To Legacy it was astounding in its detail and beauty. The cinnamon girl gaped with wide-eyes. It was like a mandala - it made her feel strangely calm, focused. Some parts of it were more harsh, and she felt her spine tingle to look at those. As he paused in his work, she took the opportunity to speak. "Did you learn that in Awenasa?"
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Endymion's eyes were distant, and he was thinking of Phasma's lifeless form when Legacy appeared by his side. He jumped slightly, startled by her sudden appearance. Then he smiled a warm smile that clashed with his gloomy composure just moments before.
"Some of it, yeah," he replied, glancing down at the design. "But I think mother's blood had something to do with it, too." Fatin was artistic, wasn't she? So of course it would make sense that her children were, too. The two-year-old ran his hand over the carving for a few moments, then turned back to her sister. She looked well, and comfortable in her Optime form, and that put some of his anxieties at ease. He felt proud to have such a wonderful, close-knit family, as cheesy as it was. Yet he often worried and lay awake at night praying to whatever that no harm would ever come to them. He hadn't ever been without family, and he didn't want that to change.
"How have you been, Legacy?" he asked, realizing he hadn't had a real conversation with her in a while.
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[html] Legacy had never really tried drawing. Whenever she put pen to paper or finger to sand, she always found herself writing. Her script had at first been plain and simple, an imitation of book-pages - but then on seeing a particular embossed cover one day, the girl's eyes had been opened to all sorts of different ways you could set out letters - curly, joined, rounded, slanted... but always the familiar alphabetical forms. Her brother's abstract, elaborate lines were unique. Their mother could definitely have been said to pass down her creativity, Legacy thought. She'd like a tattoo like hers, one day. Not exactly the same, though. It would have to be something personal. The idea of carrying beautiful things around all the time, as a part of your very self, greatly appealed to her. A finger trailed a particular loop of the carving, eyes following its curving path before lifting to look at her brother. "Do you miss living there?" She'd never been to Awenasa, but had heard plenty about it.
At Endymion's question her eyes lowered a little. "I'm okay. Things have been a little weird lately, but I guess it's nothing that I'm not getting used to..." She'd had a particularly idyllic start to life. It made some of the harder facts a little, well, harder to take. She wasn't sure she liked the fact that she was supposedly getting used to the idea of violence and prejudice, though. Maybe she should be doing something about it, she considered - but what could one so helpless do except become another victim through trying? There were plenty of good people in the world... but that only made it worse, in some ways, because it meant there were more to be hurt, and who knew who would be next. For now, she would just have to put her whole heart into making sure those close to her were safe. She was so thankful she had a family, that she was loved and had them to love back, for the other side looked cold and empty. But it was fragile, living like this, with ties and bonds of love and friendship. It was safe to say that she shared his fears; and they haunted her in much the same way. Perhaps it was the simplest solution, to just let go, to not care. But that was a road Legacy would never be capable of. [/html]
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He had to think about it before he could answer her. Awenasa was beautiful, and generations of Kali's lived there. The territory looked very much like Jaded Shadows from the inside, actually. The difference, however, was that when one stepped out of Awenasa's borders, tribulation wasn't waiting to engulf you. This land was like a tar pit, full of people who didn't know they were caught until it was too late. But why did he stay? It was just in his soul, he supposed. "Sometimes," he admitted vaguely, "but I belong here, with you guys."
Endymion's heart nearly broke when he heard her reply. She was so young, but Legacy was already realizing the hate and fear that had always been bred here. It unsettled him, and he lay awake at night stewing over it. He sighed. "I know what you mean," he murmured, eyes distant again. The red wolf was silent for moments more, running his finger through the jagged parts of the carving, thinking. Then he turned his attention rather quickly to his sister.
"Did you have any more run-ins with that coyote pup?" He had forgotten all about that beastly child, and how he almost hurt her. Since she was able to shift, that meant he was able as well, and would be stronger. Yet another thing to worry about.
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There really was nobody that Legacy trusted more than her cinnamon-coated big brother. His presence was always reassuring, even despite the fact that he always seemed to be on the move with some activity or just a general fidget. She unconsciously picked up his mannerisms from time to time, and did so now, a claw absently scoring a rather looped 'L' into the dead bark as she tried to distance herself from the memories he had risen in her.
She'd never lived or even seen anywhere else. Souls was part of her, within her blood. If there was a ever wholly innocent person bred in these lands of pain and passion, they would be the exception. She would never have spoken of it without his mention; the week during which that coyote had reappeared was one of the most bewildering of her life, containing not only the passing of the Beta but her first shift and second near-death experience. "I... Yes, yes I did, just after Phasma..." Her eyes met his, hoping he knew what she meant. "He's so mad at the world... I don't know why. He just wants to hurt as much as he can, Endy. But it doesn't scare me too much," she hastened to add - not entirely truthfully, but she knew he must worry like she did and didn't want to make it any worse - "he won't last long... he'll get himself killed, sooner or later. I'm certain. It's sad, really." What drove a person to such an extreme, she had no idea; she could only assume he was born that way.
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Endymion turned away from her, clenching his fists and holding his breath. Hate was born for the boy, then and there. Soon it would grow and be fed, but for now it was new. The two-year-old was still for a few moments, burning his passion into the horizon with his eyes narrowed. He knew why the boy was so malicious; it was the blood in him, he had heard. Though he had never met Kaena Lykoi, he had met one of her sons when he was young. He was just as vehement as Andrezej had been. It was the Lykoi gene.
"He won't last long," he echoed distantly. Then he faced his sister again, composure restored. "I won't let him hurt you," he told her, two pairs of green eyes meeting. He would watch the borders tirelessly, and inform Deuce and Valentine of the coyote's existance. Keeping his family safe was his top priority. He would not allow a child to terrorize his loved ones, ever.
"If we're strong like Mom," Endymion added, less gravely so to lighten the mood, "then nothing can stop us." A hint of a smile graced his lips.
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She hadn't wanted to say the words that would anger him so much he would want to seek out the coyote and kill it himself, or somehow ensure the deed was done...or even just to create a grudge that might someday inflame further, because, Legacy knew, the fact she didn't keep quiet would make her indirectly responsible. Thus she had tried to diffuse her sentences, but that helped little. No one else should be hurt because of her silence, of course, and least of all her family or herself. But it was just chance, the two episodes so far, right? Still, said that niggling conscience, how much better if the chance wasn't there at all!
She did not have the capability to distance herself from thoughts and deeds as an adult would have. Legacy could, and likely would, learn to be detached, hard-of-heart: for now, she just didn't like the idea of anybody dying because of her. Of course, there was the actuality that a violent and ruthless coyote would hurt other people, but at least, she thought, the blood would not be on her or her family's hands, they would be safe from the consequences of murder. Doing nothing and hoping he was brought to an end in another manner was not the same as committing the crime. Unless he struck first, harder than before.
It was in consternation, then, the girl replied "You're right." An affectionate smile softened her expression as he spoke, believing him, feeling safer already. But she couldn't help but add softly "don't go looking for him, though, will you..." Sighing though, trusting his judgement, whatever it might be. What would her mother do in her place... would she want to kill the boy? Did Legacy? "We can defend each other, and..." She hesitated. "Maybe he deserves a chance." Maybe he'd already used it.
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sorry for the wait, m'dear. and congrats on the spotlight soul! <3
He smiled at her request, nodding in compliance. She was a compassionate girl, he could see that plainly. They were all so much like Fatin, full of spirit, drive, and determination. Perhaps it was due to the lack of fatherly influence that cause their personalities to sway in her favor. To certain perspectives, they weren't bad qualities to have. Most of the Kali-and-whoever children were compassionate, optimistic, and almost headstrong. Others would see compassion as a weakness, inhibiting one's natural instinct of self-preservation. Endymion hadn't decided, yet, if it was or not.
Then there was the optimism. He knew the boy would not change, not until he was dead. Even in death, he doubted his rage would subside. Living in this place was like living in a vacuum of time. Nothing changed. Maybe the land, the weather, the packs, but never the members. Not unless they left. Endymion knew from experience.
However, he wasn't going to tell Legacy this fact. She needed to learn for herself, as he had. For now, he would just protect her and watch her grow. "Sure," he said sincerely, smiling lopsidedly. He let the silence thrive for a moment, leaning back on his hands and staring up at the darkening sky. With the shorter daylight hours, he rarely found time to do... anything. They would have to head back soon. Being the procrastinator that he was, he continued to stare at the sky. "Tell me something about you, Legacy. Anything," he requested with a shrug.
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it's fine, and thanks, it was quite a surprise.
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The lack of the father figure might have led to loss of self or confidence, but there was this brother of hers, as well as various other males flitting in and out of her life - just one benefit of the communal living style - and her self-esteem was as high as it can be while still including no vanity. Not yet, at least; she didn't consider how she sounded or looked, and her voice was the voice of honesty. Nothing kept bottled up or hidden, not deliberately, at least. Grace and effortless elegance was another trait their mother had been generous with - she admired her brother so much for it, and had barely any idea that she might have a little of her own. She hopped up onto the tree as he reclined, avoiding the carving, and settled with her knees pulled up before her, watching him with a sidelong gaze. The question made her grin; it was the kind she liked. The kind that required a creative answer. Tipping her eyes up in thought, she answered "I've always wanted a nickname. But Legacy doesn't seem to get any shorter!" For so long she'd never thought of the word as anything but her name. That came first, whatever meaning it might have came second. But now she realised it wasn't like that to others; they would think about the meaning first. She knew what it meant. But why was that her?
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