our paths will cross again someday.

Kaena Lykoi · 05-18-2011, 04:49 AM

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Date: 03 May [backdated]

Setting: Territory, subterritory if applicable.

Time: Twilight

Character Form: Lupus

Word Count → 376

Kae beats herself up. >_>

The ache of age was in the old woman's bones, radiating outward from creaking and stiff joints that no longer seemed to move with the fluidity they once did. There was still pride in the scarred old woman yet, burning like all the fires of hell in her remaining eye, but it had long gone from her face. Now, only age and exhaustion lingered there, slowly worn rather than quickly beaten into the old woman's face. It had been changing all her life, that face -- most of the changes had been stark and sudden, a new scar opened across her muzzle, an eye lost, an ear chewed. This change was painfully, maddeningly gradual. Even now, those closest to her might not have noted so much a change since she had stepped aside.

No matter what had actually transpired between herself and Gabriel, she needed to believe she had been the one to make that decision. Perhaps the old woman needed to believe this even more than she needed others to believe it. It might not have mattered to her at all if Gabriel quietly spread that she had been dethroned, forcibly removed from the position of Centurion, so long as she herself could believe she made that decision, so long as she herself did not have to face that terrible truth.

The old woman sprawled on the porch of the mansion unapologetically, her legs stretched in either direction, her head on the wood of the porch. Her always long and limber body seemed gaunter now, the always sharp angles of her body accentuated to razor points. It seemed she had aged years in just the weeks since she had been relegated to the rank of useless elder. Now, the clan was required to take care of her -- some dark, long-dormant part of Kaena bared its blackened fangs in pleasure at this, taunting her with burning red eyes and a smug, superior silence. The clan was required to care for her -- yet what had she ever done for the clan?

She had failed it as a leader, not once and not even twice, but three times. What right had she to claim any sort of severance?

Gabriel de le Poer · 05-26-2011, 07:24 PM

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+3--

During the meeting, Gabriel had sternly refused to look for his mother’s face. He might have, years ago, for he was her son and still relied on her for support. Time had changed these roles; he had become her superior in many ways. This was what allowed him to dethrone her, and this was what prevented him from looking for her in that crowd. He imagined her eyes would be mocking. The great, infallible Gabriel, bested by a wound won as a child, bested by something as silly as a rockslide. He had not lost his eye to war, not lost his position from an usurper—no, he had been defeated by his own pride once again.

The scar across his muzzle, carved by a man whose name he had since forgotten, tingled with the presence of this sin. Pride had always been his sin. He had been too proud to save his daughter before she had been raped, too proud to turn over a madman he kept in his house. Gabriel’s sin had cost the clan, cost his family, and cost the graying hybrid more than he wished to admit. The limp, though he made great effort to hide it, showed this with every step. Even now, he walked like a wolf. Even now, he walked with pride despite his removal from power.

When he had first given his elders a rank to retire into, he had not imagined joining them. The irony of it stung bitterly. His dark face crinkled at the thought, but dismissed it quickly. He had little desire to show this weakness, and now craved only rest and respite. Many times his mind drifted to Alaine, whom he sorely missed. He hoped she would come again, but he had seen the way his daughter’s eyes glittered with malice and knew she never would. Now alone, save a moody jackal as his most seen companion, Gabriel was free to do as he pleased.

Too much time had made him restless, and so he wandered. This was what led him past the main building of the Mansion, and past where his mother now rested. Gabriel hesitated.

Kaena Lykoi · 05-29-2011, 02:44 AM

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Word Count → 335

the sun will never shine on this cold dead heart of mine

Her one remaining eye rolled in her skull at the sound of movement, but she did not lift her head. She was old past fear, and perhaps over-confident in the coyote clan's ability to protect their borders. The monochrome canine saw a black and gold form in the periphery of her vision, moving with a staggered and stunted step she now figured was unmistakable. Her eyebrow lifted, but she still did not move, not until he hesitated. Then, she lifted her head slowly, scarred face regarding him. It might have been unreadable, but one so familiar with her as Gabriel might easily read through the knotted and old tissue crossing the woman's face. There was caution lurking there, but kindness, too.

She did not hate him, nor did she pity him -- age had made her weary, and whatever rage and vigor had existed in her as a younger canine had begun to dwindle. Her steady descent into elderliness was apparent in the grizzled, graying fur around her muzzle, the dulling of her coat colors. The once deep shadow dappling her shoulders and back had gone coal and dull gray in spots, and the white of her belly had seemed to creep up with the lightening of the once warm gray of her pelt. The summer's change in her coat accentuated these changes and the gauntness of her figure; there was less fur to disguise the withering of age apparent in the old woman.

“Do you have anywhere to be?” she inquired, her voice gruff as always, but her words cordial. She knew he did not, but politeness and habit both caused the old woman to inquire. She was hardly as vertiginous as she had been in younger days; it would seem aging reduced much of the caprice of youth. She was likely to regard him as her Aquila, regardless of his real rank, for the remainder of their days. She was too far set in her own ways to treat him as anything else.

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Gabriel de le Poer · 05-29-2011, 04:05 AM

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They had a peculiar situation, these two. Mother to son, leader to subordinate, they had crossed and re-written the roles that defined them so often he no longer knew how best to behave around her. So his body remained tense, nervous—an odd display for the former-Aquila who had charged headlong into so many battles with little regard for his own safety. He had not known fear for so many years and yet this old woman, one-eyed and crippled by arthritis, managed to strike a similar emotion in his heart.

She had spotted him, as he knew she would, but there was no hostility in her face or tone. Black ears tilted back, another childish display from the mighty Gabriel, but he did not move from his position just outside of the covered porch. Sunlight crossed his pelt, displaying its own changing colors; it had darkened severely as he aged (for he had once been tawny and golden like his son) and continued to do so even now. The only traces of gray along his pelt were at his muzzle, and these were slight, all things considered.

“You know I don’t,” he said flatly, as if expecting this to be some sort of cruel trick. He expected her to be as terrible as his children and the others had been. No one seemed to trust the wisdom of his decision, and this left doubt gnawing at the wolf-hybrid’s belly. Had he been wrong? The clan seemed to think so.

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