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Lubomir had made his den in the lush area of the Halcyon Mountains, preferring the tall trees and shade they offered, reminiscent of the Old Country and the thick evergreen forests there. He was still reeling from his encounter with Ember, his nose constantly in the air, trying to catch even the faintest whiff of her. His head was up in the clouds, his heart beating her name. It wasn't love, not yet anyway, more like a deep infatuation. She had been innocent and charming and Lubomir had fallen head over paws for her.
So caught up was he in his reverie and thoughts of comparing her to a summer day that he did not notice stumbling across the new wolf's den. He had barely noticed Connor around, but then Lubomir wasn't one for socialising. The wolf had joined the pack after Lubomir's fairy tales, so perhaps a vital piece of an unclear puzzle was missing. A puzzle both wolves were a part of. He landed face down on the ground, but quickly go up again and shook himself. He noticed the entrance to the den and thought that perhaps talking to someone would get his mind off Ember long enough to actually be sane again. 'Connor? Connor McTravis?' He knew better than to intrude. No, Lubomir sat down and patiently waited. His mind started devising more rhymes to Ember, Phoenix and lady. He could still compare her to a summer's day after all.
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The morning had gone by quickly, he had to adjust to being in a pack again, and his new surroundings were, whilst relaxing, unfamiliar. It had felt right to join the pack, but then he had always felt more at home offering something to someone rather than just looking out for himself. He had just finished putting his small possessions away inside his den when he smelt the air and recognised a scent outside, one that was only passingly familiar. He couldn't quite place it, so he shook his head and started outside when he heard the voice call his name.
Fear struck Connor as he recognised whom the voice belonged to. "Not now, please let it not be him!" he thought to himself, standing still suddenly as he tried to decide what to do. He could run, but the only exit to his den was being watched, he could attack, but that would get him exiled from his new pack, so the only option was to walk out and deal with it now, rather than later when it might be more of a problem. He walked out of the den slowly, looking down at the other wolf, his hackles rising unconciously as a sudden urge of violence caught him. He breathed deeply as spoke slowly "Lubomir. It's been a long time."
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Lubomir blinked. There was something right on the edge of his memory, thin tendrils that tried to pull his attention, draw him in, make him remember. He blinked and then realised that perhaps the wolf in front of him was familiar, very familiar and that Lubomir had seen him before. Or rather, fought him. There was a metallic taste in his mouth, the twang of blood, the memory of the puppy's helpless cry. He shook his head. He was a sentient being, after all, and his senses had been deceived before, so why not now? Connor could just be a regular wolf. But then his comment...
Confusion clearly written in his expression, he said simply, 'I fail to follow. Long time from what?' There was a feeling of strangeness in the pit of his stomach already. Lubomir could feel the memory again, but for now, he stayed strong and did nothing.
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Connor relaxed slightly, letting himself breathe deeply. If the wolf wanted to forget the past, that was fine with him, though a small grin threatened to form as he remembered the circumstances of their last meeting. He closed one eye and remembered the feel of the cold metal under his paw, the scent of pack around him, the warm flowing liquid rushing across his chest, a sharp pain as Lubomir's teeth found their mark. It was a memory that filled Connor with longing, for his missing pack, and for the warmth and taste of fresh blood again.
Connor shook his head as he realised he could not afford to go down that route again. As much as he'd like to finish the job he started all those years ago, he couldn't afford to. He dug his claws into his sides to draw blood, the brief pain cutting through the temptation of tearing the throat out of the wolf in front of him, helping him regain control. He couldn't spoil what he had just found.
He walked up to the wolf slowly, a practiced stride to move by his side, and lifted his paw to cup the other's face. He caressed Lubomir's cheek almost lovingly, leaving a small trail of his blood behind, leaning in to whisper into the other's ear. "A long time since we last met, Lubomir, a long time since I killed you, at least I thought."
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He froze. His muscles would not move. Even his breathing became shallower. Fear washed over him in successive waves and he wan't entirely sure he would live this time. The image came running back, the lost puppy tortured by the wolves, the hatred that had filled him and the loss of rationality, the second time in his life that he had ever felt like that, his heart torn to shreds with every helpless yelp. He had never killed a wolf before (indeed, the attack on Dawn Valley could be counted, but he wasn't sure he'd killed his attacker), but that puppy was almost like Frigg in their childhood days and the memory of his dead sister was enough to make his blood boil. Days later, when the puppy had died because of his wounds, whimpering against Lubomir's bloodied chest, the grey wolf had decided to kill the bastards who had done this. His wish had almost been fulfilled.
Still a weakling before Connor, Lubomir had to shake himself of the spell the other was weaving. It was pathetic, the way his nostrils quivered at the smell of blood and how his body wanted to shrink in fear or disgust or both when the paw touched his face. But he was outwardly calm, rational and most of all, protected within the borders of Shadowed Sun. 'I would hardly call a missing toe a deadly blow, you sadistic thing. You never answered me. What did that puppy do to you and your pack?' No trace of the generally formal tone. Just cool, clipped words. He would not let his speech betray the disgust and terror he was facing at the thought that a murderer was in their midst.
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Connor looked at the wolf standing terrified in front of him, leaning in to smell the lingering traces of fear on the other's scent. It sickened part of him, to cause this level of panic in another being, but pleased a greater part of him, the part that yearned for blood and pain. He stood still, his legs almost giving out on him before speaking, his voice slightly husky with the memories that came back to him. "I do not know what that puppy did to my pack, I was told only to help Farrell keep it alive."
He stepped backwards to give Lubomir some room, knowing that there was no way he could explain his actions, but that he would have to try anyway if he wanted to help this pack when it was needed. "You speak to me with contempt, even though you fear me - which you should, but everything I have done, I did to protect my pack, my family." he said, leaving out the years of refusal on his part, and the mass of scars on his back from the whip used when he disobeyed the pack.
Connor sighed slightly, looking up into Lubomir's eyes, his own filled with pity, the blood urge gone from him, leaving him slightly drained and sickened. Maybe it was wrong for him to seek out a pack, and had he known that Lubomir had survived the fall, he would've made sure that the wolf was nowhere near where he was, but fate had pushed him here, so he had to do what he could. "I understand that you hate me, and trust me that I hate you more for killing Farrell, but I would do anything for this pack. Anything that the alpha asks of me will be done. If anyone in this pack needs help, I will gladly give it. If you can't live with me here, attack me, and we will see who lives, and who dies."
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He wasn't entirely sure he hated Connor. Of course violence was never the answer and the thought of torture was enough to make Lubomir sick, but the other wolf seemed genuinely troubled. He couldn't help the cynical look on his face as he listened. Farrell? Lubomir did not remember much from that time, mostly because the sheer horrendous nature of what a pack could do was enough to make him sick. The puppy knew very little and it pained Lubomir to see him suffer and eventually die. He was no healer and in those frozen wastes, what could be done but make his passing as easy as possible? 'That puppy was a victim. You had a choice, Connor. Or did you simply follow Farrell mindlessly?' Lubomir believed in loyalty, but not stupidity.
Contempt? Probably not even that. But Lubomir could agree that Connor had been wrong to do as he did and right now, remembering that poor defenceless thing dying, he knew that he had to keep cool or simply tear the other's head off. 'Are you expecting me to believe that a puppy was a real threat to your pack?' He snarled, baring teeth. 'Perhaps he was, but there are other ways of dealing with problems. You don't torture them half to death.' When his breathing had returned to something resembling normality, Lubomir sighed. He remembered that fall. The snow had been like concrete to his weary body and he wasn't sure he could get up again. Perhaps that had saved him. 'I didn't intend to kill anyone. And you weren't too concerned about my fate to begin with. But I certainly have no power to turn you from here. Look, Connor, I hate violence. I don't see why me challenging anyone could benefit us both. I don't want to fight you. I'm just trying to understand.' He looked almost defeated, Lubomir did. Tired. Unwilling to face a crime he wasn't conscious of committing. And scared that Connor would tell Tayui or Pilot. And he would be alone.
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Rage gripped Connor, the sheer complexity of why he had done what he had done, his inability to explain it, the inability of the other to even comprehend what he had gone through filled his body with anger, trapped in its purest form inside him. His blow almost split the trunk of the tree he struck, his paw splitting open, his hackles fully risen, the fur on his back standing on end. He turned to Lubomir and tried to keep his voice under control, almost shouting at the smaller wolf, keeping it down only to avoid involving any others. "How can I explain it to you in terms you will understand? You were not there. You are not me." he cried out, his breathing deep and shaken. It would do him no good to lose it in front of this wolf. He had caused great pain in the past, who knows what he could do again.
He slumped against the tree stump, his paws moving to his braid, playing with the feather before tugging his mane hard, shaking his head as he thought of the words. "I was told by my pack to keep the puppy alive. Farrell and I were told to torture it, so we did. It was not our place to ask questions, to ask why, merely to obey." he said, picking up bits of bark lying on the floor and throwing them away idly. "I kept that puppy alive through things you could not imagine, and it would have been alive a lot longer had it not been taken away from where I could tend its wounds, where I could heal it."
He looked into the other wolf's eyes with something akin to hatred, but not as passionate, dulled almost. "It wasn't only my Brother you killed that day, you know. The puppy would have lived." he said quietly.
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Lubomir shrank back in fear. He'd never seen this sort of anger before, not even when the thrill of the hunt made One-Eye rush ahead, forcing everyone else to follow. He'd seen Frigg angry, but she became distant, aloof, much like her brother. She could shout, yes, and Lubomir had heard her turn away her own children, but she never struck anyone. One-Eye did, yes, but only in a challenge and only in a fight. This... what he was seeing was nothing more than senseless brutal anger. When Connor turned to face him, Lubomir nearly ran the other way. He was nothing if not scared right now, especially as he could be the next target. But he decided to face this demon down and reach some sort of agreement. 'Perhaps I am not you, Connor, but you are not I. I wasn't there, I don't know what happened, but I know what I saw: mindless torture. That puppy... Connor, I seek to reason with you, but you are about as reasonable as that tree you just hit.' His voice was stronger now, more confident, trying to hide the fear of being hurt, dragged away and killed, his body left to rot on the edge of the packlands, a silent witness to the monster lurking within Shadowed Sun.
He edged closer now, sitting down in front of Connor. Lubomir made no further move, slightly scared that he would be hit himself. He wasn't sure that Connor wouldn't try to kill him. But when he mentioned the fate of the puppy, the 'what if's, and the fact that perhaps indirectly Lubomir was to blame for... no. This was a lie, a scam, an atrocious idea Connor had come up with to further unhinge Lubomir. 'You lie.' His voice was soft, but filled with disgust. 'That puppy would have died, with or without me. You and your brother were monsters. At least he died knowing someone would look after him.' Lubomir had buried the small corpse under the ice and snow, his claws red and raw by the end of it. 'I hope your body rots, Connor. What would you have me do, forgive you for it?' But his voice wasn't as strong. Now, the doubt, the fear that he had somehow caused the death of that puppy had infiltrated his very core. And his voice was cracking.
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Connor smiled at the wolf, calm and serene now, his breathing back to normal. He leaned in and pressed his arm down on the other's shoulder, slowly nodding. "Where did you come from to be this incredibly naive? Monsters? There is no such thing. There is only pack and those that threaten the pack. I don't care what you do, forgive me, hope I rot, nothing matters except for the survival of the pack. Even if it means that you die for it, you protect the pack."
He stood back a few paces, his eyes not matching the smile that played across his muzzle, sadness contained deep within the windows of his soul, however tarnished it might be. He looked away from the wolf and raised his head to the trees, seeking the companion that had travelled with him, acknowledging the crow with a nod of his head. Sure, it wasn't the best conversationalist, but at least it didn't judge him without trying to see the whole picture first. "I tell you what. You find out what it's like when reason doesn't stop what's trying to hurt you, trying to kill you. If you find out what it's like to have the people you love die in your hands because another pack want your land, then you can decide whether I'm evil or not, but I hope for your sake that you don't have to find out. I hope that you can keep your reason and judge me as you are now, because it will mean that you live a charmed life."
"Either way, I'll be here if anyone in this pack gets hurt, and I will be trying my hardest to keep them alive, and until a member of this pack gets attacked, I am no threat to anybody, no matter how angry they make me." he said, turning to walk away from the wolf, the crow flapping down from its branch to land on his shoulder, a smile forming as he reaches up to stroke its back, smoothing the feathers underneath his paw.
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OOC: Dungo! D:
It almost scared the living daylights out of Lubomir, the uncanny way in which Connor could change from rage to serenity so quickly. And his words cut Lubomir to the core, as if the other knew exactly what to say. Die to protect, huh? How many times had Lubomir not lain awake, dreading the nightmares and the fear of waking up to those gruesome scenes? He could feel rage building up in his chest and cold deadly contempt for this wolf. 'You speak of things you do not know. You are a fool, McTravis. How many times have you seriously challenged death?'
Connor was playing with him. Lubomir's vision was darkening around the edges, the way it happens to some humans when they get migraines (not that Lubomir had ever had a migraine). And anger was piling up inside him, making him balance between rationality and pure animal rage. He bared his teeth in a low growl, finally letting his annoyance show. 'I do not judge you, you pathetic waste of space. Do you know what it's like to see those you love torn to bits by wolves who bring the stench on death? To run from some nameless terror and not sleep at night for fear today they caught you? No, Connor. You bring death and destruction upon yourself. You are no better than the monsters who slew my pack. Yes, Connor, you are a monster, a vile filthy creature whose sole purpose it is to channel their anger into killing those around him. You speak of protecting us. I wonder if we should not protect ourselves from you.'
If there was one thing Lubomir could not stand it was someone backing away like that. Letting out a louder growl, he pounced towards Connor, skidding until he was right in from of him. 'We are not done, McTravis.'
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Connor sighed slightly, closing his eyes for a moment to try and keep his calm. This wolf was beginning to irritate him, though he knew that it was lack of understanding that brought forth its words, he was still weary of being called a monster. He looked into the eyes of the other, clenching and unclenching his paws as he took a deep breath.
"You speak as if you truly believe that I have not know suffering. Let me show you something, and then you can decide what I am, be the judge, jury and executioner, if you desire." he said slowly, shaking his head sadly as he knew he would have to bring up memories of the past that he had hoped he would never have to think of again. He reached to his chest, stroking his fur slowly before parting it, revealing a long, thin scar over his chest, in line with his heart. "This was given to me by the pack who's puppy you "rescued" from us. They had come into our territory late at night when I was looking after the cubs of our pack. The attack was quick and fierce. They stabbed me through the chest and left me on the floor bleeding to death, forced me to watch them pick up the cubs one by one, forced me to watch them slit their small throats."
He said it without emotion, distantly, but in his head he could hear the noises the cubs had made, the scent of blood being spilt on the ground, the agony of the knife slicing through his flesh. It was all he could do not to shiver, but he had been taught to give away nothing, even to those closest to him. He turned around and started parting the fur on his back slowly, each part of revealed flesh crossed with old scars, his whole back a tapestry of forgotten pain. "I was punished for letting them die, and I deserved it. I was not vigilant enough, was not fast enough. I could have stopped them, but failed." he said, pausing as he turned back to the wolf. "That was the first time we had heard of the other pack, they had not given us any indication that they were near our territory. They attacked again and killed my grandfather, who had taught me how to help others by healing their wounds. They killed my sister, who was only a year old." There were other things, the memory of the burning, the memories of seeing his father's body, skin as black as night, sloughing away with the merest touch, but they were too fresh in his mind, too painful. This was enough to tell the other, he was not family, so why tell him everything.
He looked down at the wolf, and felt a surge of pity rise up in him. It was not the other's fault that he was this angry, carried this much hatred, so Connor could not blame him. If he chose not to understand, he could not force him to. He opened his arms wide, closed his eyes and breathed deeply, speaking softer than he had been, his voice barely carried across the distance between the two. "If you want to strike me down, do it. If you believe I am a monster, and that this pack needs protecting from me, kill me now. I will not stop you, nor raise a hand against you."
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OOC: Anything more to add here?
He'd been chastised. Lubomir realised that well and truly Connor had had a worse life than him. He looked away, both in disgust at what the other had lived through and in disgust with himself for being so pushy. This was not to say that he could simply forgive him for what he had done to that puppy, but it did certainly put a different spin on it. 'I did not know that about your pack. And truly, Connor, I cannot see what you would want me to say.' Or rather, he did, but it would mean becoming too vulnerable, it would imply trust that Lubomir was simply not ready to give.
He looked up in faint horror and disgust when Connor did his foolish offering, and Lubomir found himself brushing it away idly. 'You fail to understand me. I do not want to kill you. Why should I? Yes, you tried to kill me, but that was in another time and place. No, Connor. I've come to rest here, I'm going to make my home here and I don't think that I want to sow discord in the pack.' Lubomir sneered slightly. 'And besides, I do not think a warrior would let anyone bully them about. Or strike them down.'
Lubomir gave another sigh and turned away slightly. 'If you have nothing else to tell me, then I suppose I shall leave you in peace. I do not resent you, Connor. But I despise your family for making you who you are now.' He started padding away, his face clouded, the lovely memories of Ember replaced by the horrors Connor had shown him. Lubomir didn't know if he'd be followed. He trusted the other hated him now, for prying into a past that didn't concern him.
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