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For Castor. This isn't goooood.
The murkiness above Bleeding Souls threatened rain, possibly even sleet. Thunder rumbled ominously from over the sea, and Endymion’s amber fur stood on end. Every inch of Earth seemed alive, moving with the pulse of the monster hanging over them; trees undulated strangely in the biting wind, their red and yellow leaves falling and swirling about them in terror. “Shhh!” they called to one another, begging for silence, but they all kept up their clamor. The Shadows wolf was following the path between territories, along the river, listening to and watching the Earth prepare for the storm. His short gait was swift and somewhat eager, possessing the same condition as the things around him. When he was a child, Endymion would hide in the far reaches of the family den while thunder belowed from the sky and lightning illuminated the fitful scenery outside. The unreasonable fear transformed itself over time into fascination of cloudburst, lightning, and thunder.
The russet wolf trotted on, crossing the river at its shallowest point. He stopped abruptly when he reached solid, dry ground; he had accidentally wandered into Clouded Tears territory. The Souls land was still new and unfamiliar to him, it seemed. Despite the atmosphere, fog still hung low to the ground, unbothered by the perturbed gust. Sighing, Endymion turned to exit the premises, not wanting to be scolded for trespassing. Overhead, thunder grumbled, closer than it had been minutes before.
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It was the first time he had spent a full twenty-four hours within the borders of the territory, but now the storm seemed to fuel his powerful strides, driving him to the edge of Clouded Tears. He tilted his head to the sky and rolled his shoulders, stimulating muscles that had been relatively motionless when he had sat by the Yawrah. A scent that met his nostrils electrified his sense and for a moment he stood stock still, gauging from exactly where it was coming and if it was a Clouded Tears member whose scent simply wasn't familiar to him. But no, this scent was different, from Jaded Shadows, a pack he had only passed by once or twice. Immediately, he headed towards the strange wolf on Clouded Tears territory, intending to find out just what he was doing here.
As he drew near, the thunder rumbled a little closer than before, and he waited until it died completely before the rumble of his voice filled the emptiness the thunder had left behind. "Need anything on your way out?" There wasn't an ounce of emphasis in his voice. There was no sarcasm; there was no concern. The deep reverberation in his throat was looking specifically for a why and a what, but his tone gave no clear implication of what he was looking for in the way of answers. He wasn't out to scare the hell out of the younger wolf, but he didn't want him taking it lightly, either. Yellow eyes locked onto green eyes and he strode closer, remaining a decent distance away and yet close enough to assure the other that he meant business. He had no idea why anyone would step into this fog without a thought on his mind, which was obviously what had happened or the other would know he was on someone elses territory. He was either careless or he was looking for something.
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The saturated, fitful gust did not alert him of the approaching stranger, so the amber wolf was startled by the sudden inquiry after the peel of thunder. Never-the-less, Endymion twirled around calmly to face the dark wolf, his pale green gaze meeting the other’s brilliant yellow. The Tears member, as he assumed, did not sound hostile, but his formidable appearance was enough to make an impression on the two year old. The Russo noted with relief that the stranger was not as terrifying as the creature he had met at the borders of Inferni. A flash of lightning illuminated the territory, though the dense fog that crouched low to the cold earth kept much hidden. A second rumble sounded overhead, closer even than the last. It was a fast moving storm, and would be upon them at any moment.
“No,” said the pirate-son, dipping his head briefly. “I wasn’t paying attention, and accidentally wandered in. I apologize.” The young man knew when to be polite, and he knew when to defend himself, but he could choose when to be either. A few nights ago he had been faced with a similar situation, though he had been confronted by a more belligerent counterpart. Fortunately he had withheld the full extent of his indigence and walked away from the situation unscathed. It went without saying that it would be far into the future when one found Endymion Russo at the borders of Inferni again.
A third roar of thunder exclaimed to them from the sky, louder and longer than the ones before it; the hue had resounded right above them. The amber wolf looked up at the slate mass hanging over their heads, then back at the similar-colored wolf. "Looks like the storm is here," he commented, almost to himself, in awe.
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