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TSUNAMI:
Time had given to him, and time had taken away from him: friendships and loved ones, there and then lost, scars that had faded, only to be replaced with new ones. The greatest gifts of all, experience, memory, age. Change. A wise man had told him once that there was no good and no bad, no life or death, just change. And change captured everything. It won and lost. Tsunami was long through fighting the sands of time. When the boy with his mother's smile had left his father to fight and find himself, bright-eyed and eager with all the innocent whimsy and fancy of youth, Tsunami had been sad and he had been happy, but he had not been surprised. Bane had been his reason for breathing for so long. The gray wolf didn't claim to be a perfect parent. He didn't claim to be a perfect anything.
Four-legged, one-eyed and wary in this heavy silence, the sturdy battlescarred wolf could taste the history. Ahead lay Jaded Shadows, and his paws carried him in a steady, albeit slightly uneven, gait towards it. He wasn't afraid, nor was he upset. Perhaps what he felt was acceptance, but it offered a kind of peace of mind that he gladly embraced. He felt the pull of both Storm (his childhood, his mother and his sister, Rashmi's grave, stories by the fire) and of Clouded Tears (so many paths left uncovered...) and neither went unnoticed. They were passing thoughts, fleeting memories he would sort through in the Great Chamber of his mind later. It was late, the sun was setting, and the three-year-old needed to rest. He had been walking for so long and now was not the time to remember. Still, he couldn't resist this, just this one thing. Ophelia and her children, Mordulin, the place where Malachi had taken his last breath -- Jaded Shadows. He had never belonged to it, but he would see it. He would look at a ghost, see himself in it, and move on. What if, what if?
It was different but the same. Everything was. Mordulin's scent was gone, and Tsunami assumed she had passed on. He wished he could have introduced Bane to her. Or Willow, or Ire. Are they here? Exhaling slowly, the gray wolf allowed himself a brief pause some ways away from the border, looking inward at a place he had never belonged to but nonetheless held close to his heart. Like so many other things, so many people.
The more things change...
Time had given to him, and time had taken away from him, but at his core, the gray wolf was still the same. Looking close into what had been his grandmother's packlands, this steadily darkening maze of forest and of life, he could almost see the small brown figure of his sister loping towards him, Hazel, Ireland and Tokyo in tow. It made him sad and it made him happy. He still believed.
ENDYMION:
It seemed as if the prodigal sons and daughters were returning as of late, and Endymion had been one of the first. Some brought children, others wore scars and told stories of wars fought for reasons unheard of. The pirate son had nothing with him upon his return, save the leather bag on his back. He had learned of his family in Awenasa, and the rituals which the Kali line practiced. But the things he had been most eager to know had escaped him; across the sea or underground, Thorn was always one step ahead of him. Though Endymion bore the name Russo, he felt more like a Kali. And perhaps that was the better part of his blood.
The russet wolf did not believe as he once had. When he was younger, he knew nothing of sin and redemption, and felt that people were driven by expectation. So when Salvaged left, he fell far and he fell hard. Of course, he had been oblivious to what Salvaged was. He was still oblivious, but did not hold him in as high regard as he once did. It bothered Endymion slightly to know that his "father" could never redeem himself in the eyes of his son. He probably wouldn't be able to redeem himself in the eyes of anyone, even if he was alive. It was almost a shame. Almost.
Wandering around the borders, a hobby he had taken up out of boredom, he caught sight of the one-eyed gray wolf. He seemed familiar enough to the two-year-old, but was a stranger still. As Endymion advanced, his pale green eyes ran briefly over the older male's scars, and he wondered if he was there to cause trouble. A few yards away, he flashed an easy smile. "Hey there," he said, stopping feet away from the gray stranger. "Can I help you?"
TSUNAMI:
The burly yellow-eyed wolf's appearance belied his demeanor. He carried himself differently these days; his back was straighter and his head was held high. It wasn't dominance Tsunami was trying to put across, or nothing at all, really. He wasn't trying -- it was something that had come upon him gradually over time. It was respectful, it was calm and serene, it was confidence without arrogance.
The scent came upon the wayward wanderer before the actual wolf. Fully prepared to turn away and leave his ghosts behind, the gray wolf found himself pausing and watching instead. It was nobody he knew, as vaguely familiar as the scent seemed. Somehow the entire Shadowlands seemed a ghost of his past. The entirety of the territory he had called home once upon a time seemed like a dim flicker of memory in the back of his mind; seeing someone would make it real again. Seeing someone would clear everything up in his mind, flood light into the shadowy corners of this once upon a time, this fairytale of days gone by. There were still wolves here, there was still life here, the many recent and strong scents he had come across proved that. But there had been times since arriving when Tsunami had wondered if his mind were supplying ancient memories, spoon-feeding him hope while waiting patiently for the truth. It wasn't so.
The one who appeared was a younger male. He seemed to hold himself with the immediate authority any pack member held over any stranger. Tsunami hadn't been a part of pack life for long enough that the customs that it dictated were half-forgotten. The Shadows wolf's greeting was friendly and, reading into the words, Tsunami saw no underlying concern. He didn't know what he was looking for; so Jaded Shadows was still real, and therefore so would be the other packs. What did he expect, the place to have burned down in his absence? Perhaps it was just difficult to believe that things changed, yet didn't really. The more they stay the same.
"I'm not sure," Tsunami returned the easy smile, turning to face the other as he spoke. "My name is Tsunami. My siblings and nieces used to live here, and Mordulin had the misfortune to adopt my father, which makes her my grandmother, I suppose." The battlescarred wolf had never known Mordulin well, though the few times they had met had led him to harbor a healthy amount of respect for the aging alpha. "I'm just here out of nostalgia, really. I apologize if I've interrupted anything."
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This is short. Poo.
Tsunami’s returning smile set Endymion at ease. Granting the visitor an audience, the amber male sat, head inclined slightly as he listened. They both had family in Jaded Shadows, it seemed. The subordinate was quiet and calm as the other spoke, until the mention of his father; he could have sworn that his heart skipped a beat, and the smile slipped from his face. Endymion knew of only one male wolf Mordulin had adopted. And he was the very creature that had been on and off his mind ever since returning to his homeland. As quickly as the last few words of Tsunami's statement came out of his mouth, the amber wolf blurted the burning question.
"Do you mean Salvaged Eternity?" The words that tumbled out of his mouth were marked with confusion. He had been raised to be polite, and his demeanor warranted it, but it was all so strange. The Russo's pale green eyes scanned the gray wolf, as if he would see answers written on his face. Even if the older male had referred to another, they would still have been related. After all, Mordulin had been Endymion's grandmother, too. The thought of the dark matron made his thoughts stray briefly; he felt some heartache with the knowledge that he would probably never speak with the wonderful woman again. Did this stranger know that Mordulin had gone?
It was the strangest thing, discovering family every time he turned around.
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[html] PROZACSnothing wrong with short.
PROZACSAs the stranger's smile faded, abruptly and without warning, the sturdy gray wolf wondered if he'd said something wrong -- and as it turned out, he had. Salvaged Eternity was dead. In Tsunami's mind, he was dead, regardless of whether or not his physical body was actually festering in the ground. A demon such as him deserved worse, but Tsunami had never been able to overpower him, or stop him, no matter how he had wanted to. For a long time, after growing up alone and learning of the green-eyed monster's deeds from the late Ceres Sadira, Tsunami had wondered if he could be like that. He did, after all, hear voices. Or more specifically, one particular one who enjoyed mocking him and encouraging him to do the wrong thing while she stood there and laughed. And he had killed his first lover. So what if it had been justified -- it had been an act of Satan either way. What was that saying? Two wrongs didn't make a right? He had said that to Laruku once, when they had been falling apart. Life. Funny, funny sadistic thing.
PROZACSBut the creature's legacy lived on. Yeah, was Tsunami's wary reply. It had always been a wish of his to eradicate his father from the earth's surface, so that nobody would ever have to dwell on his memory again. You know him? There was no hint of his scent on the borders of the pack, and there was nobody screaming in his mind that yes, there were reasons to stay away. The battlescarred wolf could feel the Shadows' member's eyes scanning him, searching for answers, and it was only then that he made the mental connection. It may or may not have been true, but there was every possibility. Green -- like Chael, like Hale, like Salvaged himself. Green eyes, and this Jaded Shadows male standing before him had them.
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quite true!
The amber wolf sighed, looking away from his newfound relation. It bothered him, it did, but for strange reasons he couldn't place. It wasn't the fact that the Tsunami character was his father's son; the gray canine seemed pleasant and civil enough. Endymion stood silent for a few stretching moments, staring off to the side with his face slightly crumpled in thought. Oh, the multitude of offspring the green-eyed demon had produced. And there they were, just two out of the hoard. The two-year-old had family there in Jaded Shadows, and some ways away in Awenasa. Did Tsunami? The pirate-son turned his pale eyes back to the loner, his half-brother.
“I did,” Endymion said, mouth turning upward briefly, sadly. He wasn’t sure what he was sad about. “He’s dead now, though.” Tsunami probably already knew, but the Shadows wolf felt the need to voice the truth, and to grasp it. In a way, the statement gave him some relief; the women which had the misfortune to associate with him didn’t need to worry anymore, nor did his misfortunate children. Did Endymion consider himself one anymore? He couldn't even tell.
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--
cradle me in your crooked heart
Endymion looked away briefly, and Tsunami was struck suddenly with how much the younger male reminded him of himself. Rape aside, who of Salvaged's children had actually looked up to the man? None, none that Tsunami had ever known, and he had known, or at least known of, many. Himself and Apollyon, and Ophelia and Satin and their brothers, Misery's children whom he had never met, and so many others he'd probably never be able to name. Hale had admired his father, but only because he had been fed bullshit from the day he'd been kidnapped. The poor bastard. So Salvaged was dead? Tsunami had heard that tune before, but this time he was inclined to believe it. Perhaps, just like before, this was merely because he wanted to. If he had ever been given a better chance, he would have slaughtered the green-eyed demon himself.
why? Why? Because he had never deserved to live in the first place. maybe he'll come see you one day, sunshine. Mischa smiled. The battlescarred wolf flicked back his ears briefly at the thought. wouldn't you like that, dear, hmm? Moving on, he turned his head a little so his single good eye rested squarely on this strange Shadows wolf, who was apparently his half-brother. Studying him, as if mourning for the mother who had gone through such horror in order to conceive him -- if that were the case, anyhow. Ophelia and Satin and Thanos had been products of consensual sex. And, given Endymion's age, he might have been one of Fatin Kali's, and she'd been mated to the monster. But Salvaged had raped more than he had made love. Abruptly, the wolf with the sun-coloured eye decided he didn't care that Salvaged was dead. If he wasn't after all, and came back, Tsunami -- healthy, strong and much more experienced than that skinny, dumb year-old whelp he had been the first time -- would kill him.
And with that, he smiled a little, revealing the news didn't upset him at all. I'm Nirupama Tsunami, by the way. Related? Might as well introduce himself. hell of a first day back. You're one of Fatin's, if I'm not mistaken?
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The late introduction surprised him, and he chided himself silently for being so remiss in his etiquette. Returning the smile, he nodded once to the gray male. “Endymion Russo,” he stated, the name rolling easily off his tongue. He did not mark it, but his name was contradicting to his supposed parentage; a wolf with Kali and Wick blood with a Russian-pirate name was peculiar at best. At Tsunami’s question he nodded again, smiling, though feeling slightly strange under the single, piercing eye.
Endymion would have asked Tsunami of his mother if he had known who she was. Instead, he remained silent for a few moments, head tilted, watching the other in a nonchalant fashion. Seeing no reason to let the conversation (though strange) die, he spoke. "Have you been away, or something?" The answer was quite obvious, but Endymion didn't really mind.
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cradle me in your crooked heart
Endymion Russo, of course. Long ago Tsunami had forgotten who had whispered the name to him as yet another to add to the long list of family he called his own. But he had been aware of the boy's existance -- well, not a boy anymore. He remembered thinking at the time how it was odd a son of Fatin and Salvaged had the pirate's surname, but none of his business, really. Now with Syemv, Aremys and Chimera nothing but faded pages in that dusty old history book, Tsunami found he had strange connections to all the packs in the area. It wasn't all blood or immediate family, but there seemed to always be someone. It felt like a prophecy, a sign from the Gods, that the first soul he should stumble across here be a link -- however distant -- to his past. It was a reason to keep going.
Yes, he had been away, for too long. The ocean took me and my son. It's taken me a long time to return. His story felt like filler, irrelevant because though related, he and Endymion Russo didn't know each other very well. Besides, there were things he wanted to ask. What happened to Mordulin? Her scent has all but faded. In speaking it aloud, the gray wolf was insinuating the obvious: she was no longer alpha. And the dark lady hadn't exactly been young, either. Whatever the news was, it undoubtedly wouldn't be cheerful.
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sorry for the wait. busy week.
do you think this thread could be wrapped up soon?
Endymion had expected Tsunami to ask the question sooner or later. No matter how much he anticipated it, however, the mention of his their grandmother caused a soft frown to appear on his face. Though his time spent with the lady had been brief and random, she had earned his respect and admiration. Mordulin had maintained maintained peace and stability for the Shadows w0lves. Endymion had felt security knowing he was under the watchful eye of the dark, elegant lady. The pirate son admired and loved his mother, and respected Ta.yui, but he wondered just how long it would be before his packs neutrality was eliminated. The Mountain Pack had been respected—or seen as less than a threat at least—by most everyone in Bleeding Souls, especially leaders or the various w0lf packs, and 1nferni. Now that she was gone, would the perspective change?
"She left some time ago, before I arrived," the amber w0lf said with a sigh, "She was really sick, from what I understand." The second statement was softer than the first, almost a whisper. Endymion looked away, pretending to peer at the trees to his right. It was almost unfair, to leave and discover long-lost family, then come back and discover others were gone.
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