I'm not about to give thanks or apologize.

Gabriel de le Poer · 02-09-2011, 12:22 AM

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Gabriel saw the same worry form on Talitha’s face, but it was her brother that moved first. Thankful for this, the gruff Aquila smiled warmly. Even now he was trying to protect her, and she him (in her own way). Perhaps they would have survived that war if they had stayed. The thought was greeted with Haku’s grinning snarl and Andrezej’s mocking laughter and he knew it was not so. Safety did not exist while such men lived. Now that they were dead, now that these children were grown, there was time for peace.

“Your brother,” Gabriel emphasized the word. “, had a habit of bringing home all sorts of lost children. None of them are here now,” he added, catching a shadow as it flickered over his son’s face. “, and hopefully he has time to pick up duties beyond finding more pups for other people to babysit.”

Talitha de le Poer · 02-09-2011, 12:54 AM

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It seemed she had missed a joke, one that was shared between the two men who stood with her; for a brief moment, she was vaguely jealous that her father shared some knowledge with Ezekiel that she didn't. Her eyes darted between the two of them, comparing and appraising and looking for similarities that weren't there. Ezekiel had the eyes she wish she had inherited, but little else proved he was her brother or Gabriel's son.

Ezekiel's movement brought her attention to the front, and a smile crossed her maw at the touch of his hand, albeit a faint one. The fact that he was truly there calmed her mind and cleared her thoughts. Of course he would stay, and she was being foolish in thinking otherwise. Bliss passed over all other emotions, until her father spoke once more.

His strain on the word brother caused her to loosen her grip on the golden coyote's hand, the loving light fading from her crimson eyes and hiding behind what was supposed to be familial affection. At the news of Ezekiel's old habits, she tilted her head toward the younger man, blinking once in curiosity.

"I didn't realize he was so generous."

The sentence was dull, her eyes critical as she took a deeper interest in him. She would have left outsiders alone, but the golden male beside her had brought them into the lion's den. One of her black-rimmed ears twitched backwards, lying flat against her skull as she wondered what went through her brother's mind.

Her curiosity was short-lived. It was past, and she wouldn't let him make a fool of himself again, now that he had come back to her. "I'm sure he'll be wonderful. Just like you," she offered to the Aquila, trying to give assurance for something that only Ezekiel could promise.

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Ezekiel de le Poer · 02-09-2011, 06:31 PM

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Posting as both since I am being lazy. <<
     Generous. The word sounded odd. Ezekiel had been something of that sort. Siobhan was rescued by thievery, taken because she would have been broken and bruised if left in her mother’s care. He had done his best by her in many respects, but he could not teach her what she had needed to know. Her betrayal had left him bitter, but he no longer blamed the wolf for it. The fault lay with her and her alone.
     He smiled amiably enough, though he wondered if there had been fault in his decisions. It had been Gabriel, after all, that had allowed both girls to stay—and Zana was family, despite her odd nature and even odder size deformity. It wasn’t as if he had been bringing wolves home or anything like that. Dismissing the thoughts, he looked to his sister and then father.
     Gabriel shook his head, but he was smiling as he did so. “Your den is still empty, as far as I know. Why don’t you head there and settle in? I’ll come talk to you later. He’s all yours, Talitha.” With that the big male was off, moving at a gentle lope towards the borders once more.

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Talitha de le Poer · 02-09-2011, 07:23 PM

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Hehe. It happens! Laziness is an acceptable thing in this case. Bit of a rambly first paragraph on my part. -.- Sorry 'bout that.

She wasn't sure she wanted to know the adventures Ezekiel had underwent if it involved the rescue of 'strays', as her father had so comfortably used. She would have never considered such an idea, bringing home strangers who didn't belong. If they couldn't make it to the borders on their own, they shouldn't be there. If they weren't kin, they didn't deserve that kindness. The de le Poer princess had no qualms in being cruel to outsiders.

Talitha watched his smile form, listening and wondering and watching again. Gabriel smiled in turn, and it seemed to the woman that she was the only one not in the mood for such displays of excitement, even though she should have been. The final exchange of words meant that Ezekiel was there to stay, just like she'd wanted. But no smile came.

Her crimson eyes watched her behemoth of a father as he loped off to his duties again. "Do you want me to help you settle in again, Zekie?" she asked, unwilling to look toward him, fearful that he may have disappeared when she looked away. He hadn't, she realized with a flicker of joy as she turned her face toward him. His presence was quite real.

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Ezekiel de le Poer · 02-09-2011, 07:57 PM

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The same wind that had brought him here rose again, tousling his bangs and running its fingers along his fur. It was not cold enough to pierce through his coat. Ezekiel watched his father leave silently. Gabriel was still the same strong, broad figure that the boy remembered from his time here. New scars littered his face, new signs of age in his darkening hide and not-quite there gray hairs, but there was still no sign that their immortal father might fall. He was glad for this. Someone needed to be the rock that they could rely on, and Gabriel was the closest thing to God that Ezekiel had right now.

His own faith had struggled under such strain, but he believed. He still believed because it was the only way to keep Talitha alive. The proof was before him, with those bright red eyes and that auburn hair. He smiled. “With all my things?” the coyote joked, indicating those on his person. “Though who knows what took up residence there since I’ve been gone…” he added more seriously, his face crinkling at the thought.

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Talitha de le Poer · 02-09-2011, 10:25 PM

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She tousled her hair, a gesture she did at least once every waking hour, and gave a laugh at Ezekiel's sarcasm. It was true that he hadn't brought a lot with him, but it was enough for her to feel comfortable offering her help. Granted, she may have offered regardless. One of her crimson eyes gave the golden man a childish wink. "Or you could just bask in my glorious presence," she teased. It was rare for her to make jokes, but Ezekiel warranted it. Like a party, but with words that flowed effortlessly from the cream maw of the woman.

He voiced concern on what might have taken up residence in the den since he left, and her mind twisted to think of the possibilities. She hadn't come into contact with anyone she didn't already know, with the exception of Kesho Maisha, but she also hadn't explored everything thoroughly. "You can always stay in my room if something's stolen yours away," she offered, letting her hand fall onto his arm. She lived in the Manor for the time being, but her demons seemed to enjoy the freedom, and she wasn't sure she wanted to stay there.

Her eyes wandered the area in careful surveillance, wondering where he would make his home if his old one was taken away. There weren't so many closed places for coyotes; the gas stations, the caves and the manor were all she could think of on such short notice. Though, it was possible he would take a more wild approach and simply stay wherever he wished. They weren't all civilized. She turned her face toward him, tugging at his upper arm. "Come on. It's cold out, and we can enjoy each others company inside, right?"

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Ezekiel de le Poer · 02-12-2011, 11:51 AM

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She could have teased him eternally and he would have smiled. The girl-turned-woman was a person that needed to relax, and Ezekiel saw that in weary shoulders and her too-telling eyes. It was his duty to her that allowed him to smile so fondly at the russet woman, even if she could do nothing for him. Her offer was one he nodded at, though he had no intention of doing such a thing. Ezekiel was still very much a simple creature. He disliked human structures and found their purpose long-gone.
Uncivilized, barbaric as her brother was, he still would find purpose and need to haunt after her and make his presence known. She would not so easily leave him again. “Tell you what,” he responded to her tug, long bangs falling to frame his face. “You come help me clean out whatever got into my cave and we can swap stories in there. Deal?”

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Talitha de le Poer · 02-12-2011, 01:10 PM

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Her fingers relaxed and let his arm ago, reaching back to push her waved hair from her face as she waited for more to talk about. They hadn't ever lacked words when they were younger, but perhaps then they didn't need them. Silently, she wondered if she had become boring, and as he spoke, she realized she had. "We can swap stories in there. Deal?" Stories. He had stories, and she had none. Her eyes turned down to the snowy ground, smile melting off and curling into a vague frown. A sigh escaped her muzzle as she watched the light twist on the ivory blanket beneath their feet.

"I'll help you clean, sure." She agreed with a nod, without reluctance, but quickly tacked on another sentence: "After, though, you should probably rest or...meet the others." Her voice moved from calm to anxious, from eager to hesitant, in less seconds than it took to speak the words. She was joking herself, thinking that their time away had left them with anything in common, despite how much she wished it had. Her head turned away, body following but not moving from the spot, expecting him to lead her to his home. "What do you think might have taken it over? Birds?"

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Ezekiel de le Poer · 02-13-2011, 11:36 AM

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After two years, his life had become the sort of thing that contained all sorts of odds and ends. He had learned much, seen more, and grown up. Mostly grown up, at least. Ezekiel was still filled with unrest, but that came with youth. Her suggestion for him to rest was one he nodded to quickly. Though he was hardly out of shape, he had been traveling for a long time. Sleep would certainly be welcomed.

“Oh, who knows,” he said, shrugging. The coyote began heading towards the northern face of the caves. He walked without any doubt in his step, his father’s acceptance silent but known. Ezekiel belonged here. He had been born in Inferni, and he had every right to be in the place. Heredity echoed through his bloodline. It was known to him the power of such things, for he was made up of ghosts. At least, Ezekiel had always believed such a thing. How could he not, with his grandfather’s pelt and his father’s eyes? With Lykoi, Massacre, and de le Poer pumping through his blood?

They reached an unobtrusive cave-front. It was small, but the young man slipped into the mouth easily. He took a moment to adjust to the semi-dark. “Well, no birds,” he called out. “Just needs cleaned out, the bedding in here got all musty.”

Talitha de le Poer · 02-13-2011, 02:46 PM

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He agreed with a nod at her suggestion that he rest, but made no comment otherwise. It was better that he didn't; she wasn't ready to express her insecurity to her brother that they would grow apart and move on with their lives and find different paths in the world. It was bad enough, for her at least, that the two had been separated for so long. She tucked her waved locks back into the rest of her hair, tapping her fingers against her elbow. She was uneasy, now that she had started to think he might not be hers for much longer.

She studied him as he shrugged, following his steps while he made his way toward the northern side of the cavernous homes. He lived farther away from others than she was comfortable with, as Kaena lived in the western face and Gabriel to the south-east. He was alone in the north, away from all the rest. Talitha heaved a sigh, watching him enter the small den.

No birds. Just needs to be cleaned out. The Lykoi hesitated in following her brother, but slipped into the cave after him, covering her nose with one hand. "Ugh. I'm not sure I'll want to visit if your home smells unpleasant all the time," she said, punctuating her words with laughter. She was teasing, but only because she knew she'd visit him anyways. Dutifully, she started the work of moving the old bedding from the home, glancing at Ezekiel every other moment or so to make sure he wouldn't disappear.

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Ezekiel de le Poer · 02-15-2011, 01:37 AM

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The cave reminded him of the ones he had spent time in during his journeys. While he was not opposed to sleeping under an open sky (he did often when in Tristan’s company) he preferred to be under something. Caves felt safe, but trees worked in a pinch. He had never grown fond of human buildings, finding their structures unstable and unfamiliar. They were odd shapes and made of materials he did not always understand. Crude, organic things felt more natural to him. This was appropriate. He had been raised in savage country by those who did not live with modern ways.

It smelled mostly of old plants, the dry-dust that came with disuse. He had left in a hurry, taking only the bow and quiver. That alone had traveled with him, though the bag had been found along the way. In it he carried odds and ends; healing plants wrapped in leather, a small but remarkably sharp knife, lesser important things like books. No maps, nothing to write with. He knew how to read, how to speak with animals, but not how to write or anything grandiose. Despite his charm, there was much that Ezekiel just hadn’t put time into.

“You should smell badger,” he offered lightly, shrugging off his bag and weapon. He treated both carefully, though the care was subtle. Much rougher came the task at hand, grabbing armfuls of the old stuff and snorting as dust hit his nose. “I could always visit you, little sister,” he teased her lightly, for they had been born only moments apart. “Still living in that old house?”

Talitha de le Poer · 02-15-2011, 10:23 AM

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She snorted past the dust that clouded her face, kicked up by the movements and the cleaning. It reminded her of how long he really had been gone, how quickly he had left. A surge of guilt pushed its way through her veins. Had he left because of her, so abruptly? She had caused problems for the men who claimed her as a sister and daughter, returning early to try and defend her home, and running away when things went wrong. Gabriel had seen his little girl suffer, and Ezekiel had chased her across the wilderness. The de le Poer woman exhaled a heavy sight, leaning against the entrance of the cave to take a rest.

Her ears swiveled slightly in order to listen to her brother's words, laughing when appropriate, though it was a dull ring rather than a cheerful display. The Massacre gaze looked out over the snow with solemn undertones she was unwilling to show the golden prince behind her. "I could always visit you, little sister. Still living in that old house?" For a moment, she forgot. Did she live in the manor? Did she live in the caves? Where exactly did she go home to when the sun fell? "Yes, for now. It offers me company I don't have other places," she replied.

With the reappearance of Ezekiel, she wondered if she needed Cotl's company. The orange coyote-dog had been the source of prior discomfort, but he gave her a chance to indulge in the substances that kept her, if not saner, calmer. She wondered if Ezekiel would let her do the same things. The answer that came to her head was the more obvious: no. If she was digging herself a shallow grave in the snow-covered ground, she was certain her brother would have issues with it. And that meant it was best to keep him away from the manor. "I can come here. I don't want you there, it's not really a stable house," she explained, turning back to look at him. "You're so much bigger now, I'm sure you'd be too much for the stairs."

The final laugh was much happier, words laced with jest she hoped wasn't lost in the fact that she was keeping him away from something.

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Ezekiel de le Poer · 02-16-2011, 07:22 PM

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The bronze coyote moved with practiced ease. He was familiar with the tasks of cleaning bedding. In the clan he had lived with, such things were duties given to the young warriors—he was not old enough for them to consider him an adult until the first time they had seen him fight. Ezekiel was young, but he had been trained well. He fought with the skills of three warriors, not simply one, and it showed.

For now. He wondered if she thought about leaving again, and felt a deep wound inside of him ache. Yet she spoke of company, and he considered this promising. It reminded him too of their differences. She needed people. He did not. Ezekiel had learned to find comfort in solitude, and often sought it. Even the animals who spoke low-speech, ravens and badgers and the like, they did not find the need for company often. When they spoke with the scarred coyote it was not for long, and usually only to determine his purpose in their land. He had always been polite, as he was taught, and the animals often aided him in their own ways.

Her comments were said with jest, but he caught an undertone and his eyes narrowed slightly. Was she hiding something there? His mask continued to smile despite not reaching his eyes, and he grinned wolfishly at her. “Well, I take after dad. And you look like you could stand to gain some weight,” he added, eyeing her thin frame. “I’ll have to catch you something to thank you for the help.” It was not an offer, but more of a demand. He passed her and tossed the dry grass into the snowy wind and watch it get swept up and away by the cold breeze.

Talitha de le Poer · 02-16-2011, 08:26 PM

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He seemed to know far more than she had ever learned, or ever had been taught by their parents or the beings she had come into contact with. Even when it came to clearing out his old den, his movements appeared more purposeful. Unlike his sister, Ezekiel could take care of himself. Talitha had become dependent. She relied on others to take care of her, unable to read or write or cook food. She couldn't sew. She couldn't hunt, not with any sort of skill. She had returned to the capabilities of a child, seeking out help when comfortable with the adults around her. More often than not, she simply went without. Without furniture, or without food. Her pride locked her away from gifts; the Lykoi woman would starve before she would admit she was useless.

She knew that he noticed, especially as he spoke. "And you look like you could stand to gain some weight." The comment hit a tender nerve, causing the russet woman to wrap an arm about her underweight form. Though she could be told, time and time again, that she was a beauty, her confidence was low and she would never see it. Touching on something that could have been considered ugly pushed the idea further into her mind, though she knew her handsome brother didn't mean harm by the words. She tried to offer a smile, to show she was unaffected and agreed. Yes, she could stand to gain some weight. She could stand to gain a lot of things.

The offer presented wasn't something that could be refused. She couldn't open her mouth to say "no" or tell him that she could get her own food. It was a command. He would catch her something, and she'd eat it and there would be no argument. Her smile drifted away like the grass he tossed into the wind, crimson eyes watching his movements. Her own were slow as she brought herself to his side, leaning toward his shoulder in the hopes to stop him for a moment, if only to press her nose into the fur at his neck. "Can I go with you? I don't hunt."

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Ezekiel de le Poer · 02-16-2011, 08:52 PM

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He did not realize she was without skills, for he had seen that she was capable of many things in their youth. Survival had become instinctive to him, second-nature. Lessons had been taught and taken in stride. Unlike his pretty sister, Ezekiel showed this on his face. Twin scars cut across his left eye, reminding him constantly of his worst failure. Corvus would have killed him. The boy had no doubt of that. It had taught him to be wary, to know when to accept defeat and flee. If he had, he might not have been laid up for two months with broken ribs.

A simple gesture told him she was conscious of her weight, ashamed of it, but he did not regret bringing it up. If anything, he was glad. She needed to put on more weight. Being skinny and sickly would only make the already harsh world a far more dangerous place. It wasn’t as if she was living alone anymore, she was with a pack that could provide for her. As her heat reached his back, he leaned his head back and felt it connect with her face. She didn’t hunt. Odd. How had she survived, he wondered. “Sure. I won’t be going after anything big, and you can help me flush out some rabbits.” The stupid things would run right into his arrows. They often did.

Talitha de le Poer · 02-16-2011, 09:32 PM

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It had been strange to admit to her lack of hunting ability, but she had never truly needed to hunt in the past. In her youth, her parents provided for her. When they were sent away, she was with family who cared for her. Even this last disappearance had led her to the camp of the ages-old coyote male who had saved her from her own guilt, and Myron had never let her starve. Her weight was low, but it wasn't for lack of food offered. Though she couldn't catch her own without a difficult excursion, she was sure Cotl would have fed her if she asked. Or Gabriel. The latter may have even taught her how to hunt herself. No, she went hungry for the same reason she felt it necessary to waste away in a pool of liquor. She was undeserving of the gifts given to her. She had squandered her heritage by running away. Perhaps her beliefs were wrong, but they were firm. Lykoi blood, de le Poer blood. Outside of Inferni, they deserved death. Inferni was Mecca, holy land in the ruby gaze of the twiggy princess.

Her arms found their way about her brother's waist, resting up on his opposite shoulder comfortably, as his head tilted back into her gesture of affection. Inside of her mind, she wondered if Ezekiel missed his life alone while he stood there as her comforting rock, grounding her to the reality of the world that spread around them. A golden prince with his rusted princess, reigning over an invisible kingdom under the monstrous king. But Ezekiel didn't need her the way she needed him. He may have dragged home stray girls in the past, as their father had mentioned, but he had survived far better than she in running across the Canadian wilderness. While she had stagnated, he had flourished. While she had withered, he had blossomed. They had changed from their youth, so different now than they were before.

He'd catch some rabbits, and she'd get to help. The thought made her smile. Helping was all she had managed to remain good at. She could take direction well, but autonomy was difficult. Doing things on her own usually ended with empty bottles of whiskey found in Halifax, and a russet Lykoi who couldn't stand properly. Around Ezekiel, it was easy to forget the problems that had arose from their childhood. With Ezekiel, she was free to admit her flaws. She didn't fear the rejection she worried so often about when it came to Gabriel or Inferni itself.

"Tell me a story, Zekie." Her voice had retreated to the whispered state it held when interacting with other packmates, but laced with it was gentle innocence that was rare to see in the coy-mutt. She didn't have her own stories to share, but she could make one up if he really wanted one in return. For the moment, she just wondered what he had done with himself without her, and who he had met in the process.

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Ezekiel de le Poer · 02-16-2011, 11:52 PM

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There had been a time when solitude had been his only companion. He had traveled many miles hiding from wolf packs, worried that they would see him as an enemy. Tristan, despite the fact he was nearly pure wolf, had told him about being attacked by strangers. Wolves often despised the other predators that they shared dominion with. Though he rarely saw anger in his larger, red-furred companion, Tristan had spoken of wolves with hatred in his voice. So he had walked alone for many weeks until the coy-dog had found him. She had pretty eyes and a nice voice, and had convinced him that her people were friendly. So for a long time, he had been with others. Long enough to sorely miss his own family and leave them behind.

With his sister here, though, he had company. He had his family again. Gabriel was his father, but he had never been very involved in his upbringing. Fatin and Tristan had filled those roles. But his twin was his other half, the deep red moon to his gold-bronze sun. At her question he smiled fondly, pulling her body closer to his for the moment. It was a familiar thing, one that might almost seem romantic if they did not know the pair were related. “When I first left here, I got lost in some deep woods. I was tired and looking for a place to sleep, and wound up face to face with a badger. He was not happy about having a big dumb coyote stick his nose in his home, and let me know that pretty quickly. Luckily I know how to talk low-speech; I didn’t know as well then, so the badger thought it was pretty funny. He told me I talked like a baby.”

Talitha de le Poer · 02-17-2011, 09:56 AM

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Her pulled her close, and she relaxed, able to listen to his words in comfort. As she had wanted, his story was about himself. And of course, the first thing he had managed to do when he left was get lost. A laugh escaped her. The image of Ezekiel and the grumpy badger was amusing, though a bit concerning at the same time. Badgers weren't known as 'kind'. But he had made it through, and seemed the stronger for it.

"When did you learn low-speech? Did daddy teach you?" Daddy was a word that often went unused, as the woman prefer father in circles where maturity gained her social status. Around the man himself, she didn't even use words. Not since her last disappearance had she called Gabriel anything to his face. She simply looked at him and spoke, and assumed he knew she was referring to him. She didn't expect Ezekiel to judge her for words, though, and felt comfortable classifying their sire as 'daddy' once more.

Low-speech was not something she had endeavored to excel in. Though she understood a word or two, purely through paying attention to others who knew it, she spoke high-speech exclusively. Another skill that her beautiful brother had managed to grasp and keep, putting him on a pedestal above her. He lived like the average canine, outside and in a cave, without clothes or many possessions, but he was far more intelligent than she had first realized upon his arrival. Self-conscious of the fact that she was leagues below him, she pulled herself from his embrace and returned to the task of clearing the den.

"I went to Drifter's Bay. Isn't that disappointing? I couldn't push myself to really adventure into anything new," she said, words bitter and soft. Maybe Myron lived closer to lands that weren't settled, but it was all the same to her. Drifter's Bay was the same as the coastline and no matter how far away from Inferni she managed to get, she really wasn't that far from home.

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Ezekiel de le Poer · 02-20-2011, 09:31 PM

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Oddly, he did not notice her change in speech. He would have if he had been focusing more on the words and not the tone, but he was a creature who had become used to a difference sort of communication. In signs and gestures he saw volumes, in muscles he saw poetry, and in battle there was a great debate that raged. Ezekiel knew so many in this way, and he was thankful for it. Everything outside of battle, even his sister, felt strange and foreign to him. His pale eyes darkened a little, thinking. “No, he doesn’t really speak it. I picked some of it up from Marlowe, and once I left I learned more on the way. Some of the people I stayed with spoke it, so I learned from them.”

She pulled away and offered an explanation. Ezekiel subconsciously stiffened. Of all the places to go, knowing she had been under his nose and he had left was infuriating. He had lost her trail along the way and been separated from his family for years. Yet the anger was not obvious, and it was not at her—it was at circumstance and fate. The coyote identified those things he could not control with the path laid out before him. God had a plan. If he believed nothing else, he had to believe that. Turning back into the den, he went to the bow and arrows. Red feathers gleamed against the stone walls. “Catching dinner sound like enough of an adventure?” He asked as he pulled the quiver’s strap across his chest.

Talitha de le Poer · 02-22-2011, 12:42 AM

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She didn't watch his face as he spoke, staring instead at the winter wonderland outside as he commented on Gabriel's inability to speak low-speech. Her ears swiveled around, listening to the rest with curiosity; he had learned from, of course, Marlowe. That was expected. What she wondered more on were the people he stayed with. Her eyes finally moved back to him, watching as he moved back into his small home to collect his bow and arrows. "Catching dinner sound like enough of an adventure?" he asked. She smiled softly and gave a faint nod. "I don't know why you don't just hunt like everyone else; how do you use that thing?" She gazed in wonder at the weapon of her brother's choice.

While it was true she didn't hunt well, she marveled at the abilities of others and loved to watch a hunt. The idea of watching Ezekiel do the deed himself lifted her spirits to the sky, the bliss she had felt earlier returning ten-fold. "Maybe you can start to teach me these things, Zekie. I wouldn't trust anyone else," she stated, setting her hands on her bony hips to show it wasn't really a request. If he could give a polite demand to feed her, she felt no shame in requiring he teach her the basics of survival.

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