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Set in Halcyon Mountain.
Mab’s instructions had been very simple. He had been the last to leave, the only one who had understood his birthright and what the stone walls of the castle had meant. For well over a year and a half he had lived with his aunt and uncle, and learned the truth of his family, the ways of European society. They had presented him as their nephew, and trained him in their ways—all those things he would need to survive should the worst come to pass. These things were varied, of course, as had been his lessons; France and England had been two very different worlds, both of which he had adapted to with remarkable ease. Do you remember Peter the Great? she had asked him. He had, and he had failed to understand what she meant. Only when she had explained did he realize—a year traveling under an assumed name, seeing the world with open eyes.
That was what had brought him across the ocean. He was supposed to see where his family had come from, see the things that had made them into what they had become. The captain had let him work his way over the sea, and from there pointed him north. So alone, save for the lanneret that was following him high above. Falconry had been a part of his training, of which he had only minor difficulties. Of course, it had been worth it, especially in times like these—the bird let out a cry, signaling something was wrong. Draco quickened his pace, but it did not take long for him to understand.
The land was scorched, as if the very fire of heaven had come down and taken it whole. The ruddy red-brown male made his way along the ruins, taking in the sight and trying to decipher what it meant. What had happened? This didn’t make any sense—there was no reason a fire would have a chance to spread this wide. The rain had begun doing its work, and the ash was completely gone. In its wake he saw scattered bones, though he did not touch them. Another cry from above signaled a direction, and the blue-eyed boy followed it.
Two hours later, he was on the rise of a mountain, sitting atop a large stone and studying a strange new land. He could see movement, however brief it was, and the scents told him what he needed to know. One hand dropped to the ragged cargo shorts and dug through a pocket, drawing tobacco and flame. He lit up and the falcon came down to earth, explaining in the low tongue what he had seen—four packs, one made up of coyotes. The wolf nodded, and the bird remained at his side, content to rest for the time. Draco sighed and pushed his hair from his face with one hand. This would certainly be an adventure.
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Firefly had set off from the packlands with the intent to find herself outside of their land and looking off to what was considered no more. She was one of the few who really didn't mourn for the lands they'd left behind, of course to her they were nothing but a place she had been born. Storm had never truly been home, overseas and at her two half siblings side had been more home than these soils had, even now she felt the same.
Ireland had been so filed with wonder and mystery, the makings of fine dark things in her eyes. Living like the dark folk of mythology, stories and wisdom of their ways had filled her nights at the foot of the baird and the wise women. Her dreams had been clear and true in the distant lands, the woad markings hid beneith her coppery bronze fur on her cheeks spoke of her dreamwalking... now in these distant lands there was nothing but fog and mists. She had grown frustrated and there was not a soul she could turn to, no answers worth seeking in the lands of her birth. This was not home, never could it be in her eyes, until she found the answers she would always be treading water and never getting closer to landing.
She stood halfway up the side of the mountain gazing up to the long climb ahead, not really knowing why she was even heading this way, there was nothing left, there was nothing worth her time, just ash and charcoal as far as the eye could see. The scream of the preditorial bird make her ears flicker as she narrowed her eyes and gave up on her own stupid thoughts. She shook her head at her own folly and settled about walking to the edge of a large rocky outcrop to stare across the new territory, her mind suddenly changed on what she was doing. The course now, nowhere, and not fast at all.
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The New World was not home to Draco, who had been born and raised on foreign soil. He would have willingly spent his life there if not for what he knew had to be done. A smaller, darker part of his heart had other intentions. Draco could remember his father’s face—he would find him, and then he would give him the ultimatum. Still, those were thoughts for another day, another time. The wind turned and a stranger’s scent washed over the area, and the blue-eyed boy made a faint gesture that sent the falcon into the air.
Still though, Draco remained seated, unaffected by her presence. Until she showed him reason to be on guard, he would do little. His right hand pushed his hair back again, caught a few strands of the near black to red and he set it off, across the mountain, dancing right along with the smoke he had nearly finished.
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She had stood on the outcropp long enough to take in the view and find the points of interest in the lands, from there nothing more really interested her at the moment. She shook her head and turned back towards the mountainside she'd begun to clammer up. She'd resumed her original quest, not for longing back across the old world she'd been born into, but to see if she could see the far reaches of the land where the ocean went on forever until it hit her emerald isle. She only wanted to take a glimpse of that sea over the edge of the lands, though she knew the sea would surround her from all around except at her back, that was what she wanted to seem like an island there.
She'd paused when she'd come closer to the top, a scent of smoke stinging her nose as she rose to her full height. She scanned the sky once more for the form of the bird she'd heard call so long ago but no sight was caught. Tilting her head back towards the ridge of the mountaintop she spoke up, knowing she was probably being silly but the idea of someone else watching her wasn't something she took to well. "Hello?" She flicked her ears back and forth, almost catching the scent of another on the breeze but it was filled with strange places and things she didn't know. She shook her head knowing she was paranoid, the whole of this world was strange to her, of course the scent of another would be just so.
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A silver-gold figure danced against his peripheral vision, and Draco turned his eyes to try and catch the form. It was a girl, as his nose had told him, and she was much closer then he had thought. The voice confirmed this, and he grunted, flicking the remains of the cigarette down the rocky slope. One hand trailed to a pocket, drawing an elastic band. “Hello,” he called out, pulling his hair into a messy ponytail.
“You looking for something?” It was the question of a stranger, and said with a stranger’s concern. Draco looked no more out of place here then he did in the rest of the world.
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She'd finally caught sight of the male just before she'd begun to think it was Haku, but the sight and scent didn't belong to her lover but to another. She paused in her roamings and stood gazing at him, watching as he pulled his wild and unruly hair back from his face. She'd never met him before, but his voice said things that his figure didn't. He obviously wasn't from around here. The accent was different than the one tthe packs here seemed to hold, atleast he already seemed more itneresting than the backsliding packs here.
The Sadira child grinned at the male and replied, "Nothin'. What're you lookin' fah?" She knew her accent was slowly disolving to something fainter than what she spoke overseas, being surrounded by the same voice made it seem stronger, surer, now it seemed distant and out of place, sortof like the way she felt sometimes. Things here were so different, she thought the wolves of these lands were backsliding when she knew the tribes and clans she'd left behind were savage and barbaric, though gentle in their own nature. She didn't stop too long to think about it though, she'd found something to cure her curiousity for the moment atleast.
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Draco’s accent was an odd mixture of French, Irish, and English—he had spent enough time in all of these places to pick them up. Of course, his uncle didn’t help much, as his accent was heavy and bounced between green lands and crown and collar. Still, he barely noticed he had one, only that others did not or that theirs were different. The girl was a foreigner in part; her voice suggested that she had not been born and raised with the accent, not by far.
He returned the smile, eyes glimmering with a hint of amusement. Something in her face made him feel like he was playing a game. It was the same game he had played with the other girls, the ones who had called his name in the dark and whispered sweet dark nothings. None of them had proven themselves to him. They had used each other but the world did not change. Each day he still woke up alone, feeling hollow inside. “I’m not,” he replied, shifting his feet. “Just here for an adventure.”
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She studied him with sparkling eyes as thoughts were tumbling behind the emerald orbs. She liked her games, though she hadn't really played them out since leaving Eire except with Haku, the other males of the lands weren't witty enough to catch on. She thought it was a real pity, but as long as Haku was still game she was too. The smile that spread on his maw with the slight glitter in his eyes made her wonder if this was another tempting soul she could play with. She knew she could always try, it never hurt to try.
The words that drew from his lips made her ears perk with interest as she smiled slyly, her own little thoughts probably displayed across her face as she asked teasingly. "What kind of adventure..." the words flowed smoothly as she turned slightly away from him to gaze across the lands, lashing her tail softly acoss her hip as she watched him from the corner of her emerald eyes. "There's a million different types here.. if you know where to find them." She of course wasn't interested in exploring and wandering the lands at the moment, she'd had those adventures and had plans for more later on, but it didn't hurt to see what he was looking for either, atleast she'd know how far this game could go.
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While the games were below him, he was still entertained by them. Chasing girls under the moonlight, dew soaking into their fur, laughing and running because it was a part of the game, the chase, the thrill of the hunt. There had been other games too—these less spectacular, swords and spears and horse racing. As grown up as he thought he was, he still lived very much like a child.
“Oh, nothing spectacular,” he offered, blue eyes turning away and out to the valley below. “Covert mission, as it were.” Shrugging, the wolf turned back to the girl. “I’m Ladon,” he said, extending one hand. After so long, lying about his name sounded remarkably natural.
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She wrapped her arms around her waist as she swayed her hips slightly, rocking from side to side slightly as he spoke, the call of the bird in the air still drawing her attention away from moment to moment before she gave up on listening for the creature. She grinned as he spoke of the reason he was here, she raised a brow and asked slyly. "A mission? Hmmm.." Twitching her tail softly against her side she turned to gaze down at the lands she knew before her eyes flitted back to him. "A super secret mission?" She asked with a persistant tone. She was rather curious as to what in the world this strange boy was doing in these rural lands.
Suddenly with the offer of a name and a gesture of greeting she smiled and placed her small paw in his and gave her own. "Firefly.." She gazed at his lovely eyes a moment as her own sparked softly before she murmured his own name once. "Ladon.." She wasn't certain what she thought of the strange name, but she figured he probably thought the same of her own weird name. She didn't think she was anything like the bug that was her namesake. She'd have to ask her mother about that oneday.
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She reminded him, in some small way, of his sisters. They would persist in finding out what the boys were doing, and tag along whether they were invited or not. That was, of course, until the day everything went to hell. Secretly, Draco blamed his brother for that. Secretly, he blamed his father. He blamed everyone else because something had happened and he knew it was wrong. Even now, the thoughts made his eyes darken considerably, turning as if the sea during a storm. Very quickly, though, they changed back—and he smiled broadly. “Firefly, huh? That’s a pretty name. It suits you.” She was pretty, despite the shadow he saw in her face, and but for the warning in his heart, he might have tried to win the desperate game.
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She'd been smiling one of those secret little smiles she so loved to show the boys until she witnessed the sudden change in his eyes and then just as quickly they had disappeared. She tried to ignore it but in the back of her mind she was wondering if any of the cute ones weren't hiding something dark in their past. But just as quickly as she'd thought it she pushed the warning aside, she barely knew the male before her after all. The little smile returned again though as he spoke up, trying to flatter her with sweet little words.
She knew that she had a pretty name, she'd heard it all the time but the simple truth had grown boring after a while of the same compliment being applied over and over again by the boys. She admitted this to the blue eyed boy, "I know, they tell me all the time. Why not try for something I haven't heard." The small little smile played on her lips again as she turned to look out across the lands before asking, "What really brought you here.. It can't just be the view.." No one just arrived here looking for adventure, there had to be a reason to show up in this rural out of the way place, unless you reall were just lost and wouldn't admit it.
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I've got to remember this is just a game
He had never done anything horrible, not really. Left the girls in the night sometimes, gotten into bar fights and screamed obscenities, but nothing terrible. He had never killed anyone; he had been trained too, though. Kill with your heart, she had told him. That was what he had lived with, learned, and believed in. At her response he laughed, a laugh that even now carried the faintest hint of some pre-dawn madness. It was in the blood. “You’re really nosy, Firefly,” he jested, smiling. “What brought you all the way up here? Running from some boy?”
His eyes glinted nearly maliciously—he could smell a man on her, and he knew from her speech and her eyes just what type of girl she was.
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Her eyes cast out over the lands, far far in the distance she could see the vineyards, the straight lines of silvery green vines the only giveaway, lost in seas of forest and golden meadows. She smiled at the distant view as she heard that slightly spinechilling laughter behind her. Her ears flicked back a moment as he began to speak, the wicked smile began to play on her lips before she smartly turned back to face the male, rocking on her heels back and forth as she grinned at the man before her. "Whatever makes you think that Ladon?" she asked before finally admitting, "I'm just searching for a little extra entertainment, anything wrong with that?" Her grin was spread across her face as she met his eyes, that glint making her wonder for a second before she turned back to watch the never changing view before them.
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I've got to remember this is just a game
There was something about him that wasn’t quite right. Perhaps that was why his aunt had sent him off like this, intent on him realizing this in the same way she had. Madness lived in their blood, in their family; she had explained that to him one night, when he had been sneaking around. They had sat outside and smoked and she explained everything—except for the things she skillfully avoided, denied, lied about. Even those he hadn’t caught. Draco was skilled in this game, but he lacked the experience she did. He missed her sorely.
He leaned back, looking out to the forest below them. “You have a swagger,” he said, looking at her from the corner of his eye. “There isn’t anything wrong with entertainment,” he continued, laying onto his back and shrugging. “That’s what the game is all about.”
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She was silently watching the world below them as her ears were perked for the slightest movements of the boy, she didnt' really fear him, there wasn't anything to fear yet. The darkness was inside each and everyone of them, it was just a matter of how much the real world saw and how much was in the private darkness of the heart and soul. The soft voice behind her made her turn slightly, her tail curling across her rump as she smiled that dark wicked grin. "Of course you'd notice.."[/b] was the only reply to the comment as she flicked her tail once more to the opposite side as she turned about slowly and walked towards him.
Her eyes were watching the male as he seemed to be studying the world below, leaning up slightly as he spoke of the game. Each step taken closer to him was a small level on her own playing field until she was before him. Dropping to her knees she raised a brow to the blue eyed boy who was laying completely on his back now. Her voice was soft and almost innocent as she leaned over him, resting on one arm as she studied him. [i]"The games more than just that.." the words were left there for him to take or break.
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I've got to remember this is just a game
Both of his eyes had been shut, and as the shadow covered him he was all too well aware of her body above him. It was not until she spoke that one of his eyes opened. Vicious cold-blue, eyes that were as beautiful as they were dangerous. He had a wall up in them, and this was not without intent. He could not afford slip-ups, not yet. A grin broke across his face, revealing his canines. “Tell me the truth now, what’s your real problem?” From his tone, he might have been a doctor—but his eyes and his face were half-mad, laughing silently as he studied her reaction.
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With a slightly bored look to her face she propped her chin up on one hand and gazed at the male ever so lazily. She could see the mixture of emotions that was brewing in his eyes yet she'd come to learn than there were many different ways of reading the signs though at this time she wasn't settling on reading the signs alone. Running one finger alone the outline of his hip she watched him with emerald eyes as he spoke, the dangerous laughter that rang in his sky blue orbs was met with a dark knowing smile as she admitted with raised brows. "My case? Now that's a very serious matter, and sadly there's no known cure..." The words were followed with a sigh as she turned her eyes away from the storm brewing in his.
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I've got to remember this is just a game
This girl was like all the others. She was not a worthy competitor, but a half-bit, two-trick whore. He knew this from her touch and from the look in her eyes. If he gave an inch, she would take everything she could get her greedy little paws on. “Your parents didn’t love you enough,” he said, stating this as if he knew it for truth. Maybe she saw her father in him, or saw a boy that had left her behind—maybe she saw nothing, as he did.
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She paused suddenly in her study of the creature before her. Those matter of factly words he said made her laugh, there was nothing more she could do but laugh. He seemed to think that she did these things for some sort of need or fixation of the past. Shaking her head she turned her face away from him and grinned.
Moments later she turned back, amusement lighting her eyes as she spoke. "Maybe my parents loved me too much.. or maybe I never cared how they felt." Her eyes danced as she turned her eyes back to the view beyond the stranger. She had very little memories of her mother and father except knowing that the family had been happy, then she'd disappeared and created her own world long before she should have been allowed to. She'd never really had a childhood but she didn't care, that was what she'd wanted, she'd wanted everything the world had to offer, and she'd taken it.
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Mab’s instructions had been very simple. He had been the last to leave, the only one who had understood his birthright and what the stone walls of the castle had meant. For well over a year and a half he had lived with his aunt and uncle, and learned the truth of his family, the ways of European society. They had presented him as their nephew, and trained him in their ways—all those things he would need to survive should the worst come to pass. These things were varied, of course, as had been his lessons; France and England had been two very different worlds, both of which he had adapted to with remarkable ease. Do you remember Peter the Great? she had asked him. He had, and he had failed to understand what she meant. Only when she had explained did he realize—a year traveling under an assumed name, seeing the world with open eyes.