[html] cake
'cause all i ever had,
cakeMany would have tired of it, the inactivity, the ennui, the bed of pine needles beneath a high canopy of leaves. It had been almost a week. Bane was an enduring animal, however, a man who had been given more self-control than compassion. He was tranquil, tireless, serene in this. An occasional misting rain came and went. The silence remained. His head was quiet as well; long ago he had learned to beat it down. Control.
cakeIt was dark in the woods, minus the spot where the large black wolf had decided to build his fire. It glowed in the night, a halo of protective warmth, light to subdue the demons. The doctor sat before it, the ground his seat, a felled tree his backrest. His broken leg stretched before him, unmoveable in the splint, and his wounds were healing already. The occasional bandage was wrapped around his skin and fur, here and there. Nothing was bloodstained, dirty or old; he had standards, and he upkept them.
cakeIn his hands, Bane held a hardcover book, a medical dictionary, worn from use. He couldn't see it. The words blurred together in the soft firelight, forming lines of indecipherable black text. Still he watched it, though, reading his memory rather than the paper before him. It helped to keep him focused. Focus was important. After all, he was here for a reason. His instinct told him so.
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indent The forest smelt like fire. Gabriel imagined that it could have come from his father, though he had no idea where to find the man. He had caught his scent on the borders, and something in it perturbed him—something he couldn’t name, something sick, something wrong. It had been itching at his thoughts, a scratching sensation that he could almost recall; almost, but not quite.
indent Shaking the idea from his mind, the smoke filled his nose and he remembered why he was here. Two moonstones caught the flame and held it, bleeding that color within his own. There was a sooty colored fellow near the popping fire, studying a dog-eared book. All four feet stopped, though Gabriel realized he was in the open now, and any idea of avoiding the fellow was long gone.
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[html] cake
'cause all i ever had,
cakeSomething itched at him, something from a distance Bane couldn't quite put his finger on. He wasn't paying attention. Even if he had he wouldn't have been able to identify it, and long ago he had given up trying. The black wolf knew a losing battle when he saw one. The man kept reading, eyeing the pages that may as well have been blank. He was content in appreciating this lack of discomfort and recognizing it all had a purpose in the long run.
cakeThis place was relatively safe; so far all he had had to fear was a starving cougar and some strays who stumbled across him accidentally. This trend continued when the itching in the back of his mind ceased and a scent caught his full attention. Lifting his head, Bane eyed the stranger who had found him his time, alight in the fire and simultaneously shrouded in the darkness. Far enough away, the stranger was clear as day.
cakeNow, a past few days' history of relatively kind strangers didn't necessarily mean they would all be friendly. The black band the wolf had dug from the bottom of his bag was wrapped tightly around his wrist, the handle of his butterfly knife hidden in its folds. Bane far preferred to use it on the dead or dying. "Hello," he stated, an inquisitive look in his eyes, his mother's eyes. Calm as ever. It was debatable whether this was from his meditation or from the morphine. "May I help you?"
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indent There was something familiar about the wolf, but Gabriel didn’t know what. The doggish hybrid watched the blue-eyed man as he moved, bringing something from his bag. Though there was no obvious weapon, Gabriel saw his body tense slightly, saw that something had given off warning bells. It was just as well. For whatever else Gabriel was, he was a threat—he had been that way since the day he had first killed. Even now, he was studying the wounded man and taking in points of weakness. If he intended to kill him, as he had with the others, these were things he would need to know.
indent “I don’t think so,” he responded. “I’m not really looking for anything.” A moment or two passed, in which nothing remarkable happened. "What are you doing out here?"
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[html]  cake
i'm just a boat on the ocean
cakeAnother halfling. All places had their unique traits and the Old World was no different. Bane's world was a separate place from this one, but he had never been one to resist change. Change could bring about great fortune, and Lady Luck favoured the blue-eyed male. The halflings, the war, it had never affected him morally. None of it had. It had never been about bloodshed to him; it had been about his job. A man did what he had to do today to see tomorrow.
cakeThe fire in his veins numbed him, relaxed him, in a situation where perhaps he shouldn't have been relaxed. Strangers put him on edge in a way he found entertaining. Life, it was a game, it was a gamble, and Bane sensed no immediate danger. The broken leg was a glaring weakness but he hadn't needed to defend himself. Yet the instinct was as alive as it had ever been. It bled light in his eyes and encompassed his senses. What, it told him, and why, it asked.
cakeThe black wolf couldn't resist a smile as the halfling spoke. "Recovering." What else would he be doing? This man carried the heavy scent of others with him. Another one who chained himself, a willing captive. It smelled almost familiar, and Bane figured he was nearby the stranger's lands. A halfling landowner -- what a concept. With a flick of his wrist, the doctor shut the medical book. "Is there any reason why I shouldn't be here?" His question wasn't sarcastic or challenging, simply curious.
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indent Things happened. Gabriel had been lucky in most respects. He had not died, despite the horrible things he had seen, done, experienced. For everything, he had not lost his soul. That was the only thing he could hold onto, during those nights when he was alone with his dark thoughts. “No,” he replied, and advanced. In the firelight, he settled, not waiting for an invitation. The fire alone invited, crackling, popping, whispering; come, stay, listen.
indent “How long have you been here?” He asked suddenly, turning his eyes up to the stranger. Again, he saw something in those eyes he should have known. It continued to gnaw, to scratch. Someone else had those eyes. Someone else with dark fur, with that depth and that patience. Someone who was fading from his memory even now, fading in the ash of a long-gone fire.
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[html] cake
i'm just a boat on the ocean
cakeThe man sat down, inviting himself into the orange halo of light and warmth. Bane liked his fearlessness. The timid were a tiring sort of people. Now, despite his sturdy and muscular build, the wolf wasn't too possessive about things that were so easily shared, and if he were he still would not have argued, even when a hybrid were involved. He was non-confrontational. He was quiet, complex, open but obscure, dangerous if he needed to be. Currently he was curious. Like a cat, Bane's curiosity sometimes brought trouble. But Lady Luck favoured the bold and Bane had long ago forgotten how to feel fear. Real fear, true fear; he was led around by the instinct. By his addiction. By something a dying prophet had once told him.
cakeThe doctor moved aside his book and met Gabriel's stare with his own blurred vision. His eyes narrowed as he was struck suddenly by something. Something that clicked. The bright light faded in his head and he grinned mirthlessly at an inappropriate time. "Since the 18th at approximately 7:00 pm," was the doctor's brief and efficient reply. He wondered if the halfling had expected a more lengthy response. "But these woods make me restless and I need to remember my purpose. You remind me of someone, halfling. Tell me a story and I'll tell you one of mine."
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indent The specifics of time and days fell by the wayside. Gabriel judged these things by the sun and the moon, by the weight of days in his bones. How long had it been since he had been leading Inferni? Before the fire, after his mother vanished. How long since he had seen his wife and children? Weeks, perhaps. Months. Long enough. Both eyes turned up from the fire, focused on his companion, and he chewed on the woods. Gabriel was not good with stories, not eloquent with his words as his father had been.
indent He would try, though. “We used to live over the mountain,” he began, and looked back into the flames. “On a beach with white sand. The sun would rise out of the sea each morning and vanish behind these mountains at night. It was a savage land,” he added, then paused, wondering where he was going. Frowning, he met the dark man’s gaze again.
“I’m sorry; I’m not really a story teller.”
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[html] cake
i'm just a boat on the ocean
cakeBane was a creature who was hungry for words. Information nourished him much in the same way a dead deer may have. His mind was a working machine and it needed all the attention the young scholar could give it. When the halfling spoke, Bane listened with his short wolf ears erect.
cake"It burned down, so you came here." Bane commented. It wasn't a question. "You're a fine storyteller. Everyone is, when you find them the right subject." They had had a deal, so he went on. "I was born on a beach, and a year later lived near another. We fought a war and the Elders told stories of the Ancestors. Both sides worshipped a God, but each believed theirs was different, superior. My story is too long to share in one night, but I will do my best to start at the beginning." The black wolf crossed his legs as well as he could and leaned forward. Then he continued to speak, his voice a little stronger.
cake"Long ago, the Sun God ruled the land, as He does now and as He will in the future. For many years His Kingdom thrived and His subjects worshipped and respected Him. But as time went on, they began to mock Him instead. He was very angry when He heard this, and gathered His closest advisors to Him to hear their counsel.
cake"The Sun God's father was among the advisors, and the Sun God addressed him. 'Father, you are Firstborn and Eldest among us; I am your son, and I seek your counsel. Those that I have created, bestowed with life, speak evil things of me. I shall not destroy them until you have spoken.'
cake"At length the Sun God's father replied. 'You are a great God, a good God, You the Son who is mightier than His father. If you look down upon the men who blaspheme you, they will perish from this earth.'
cake"And the advisors gave counsel to the Sun God that He should send His eye down among the men so they could not hide. And so the Sun God summoned the fierce Lion Goddess to Him, and He told her, 'Slay them, slay the unfaithful, those who would dare to speak evil of me.'
cake"And the Lion Goddess went down to the land and found those who would speak ill of Him. The Lion Goddess struck fear in the hearts of the nonbelievers, and many were slain, until only the faithful were left standing."
cakeThe crackling and popping of the fire followed the doctor's words as he leaned back against the log. His eyes studied the halfling and the instinct spoke to him. He hoped it was wrong. "I would continue," and his voice was quieter again, even through his smile, "but I don't wish to bore you, and I'm sure an important man like you has business to attend to. Do you mind if I ask your name? I'm Bane Kiles, and I was incidentally born over the mountain, likely near that savage land where you once lived."
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indent Gabriel kept silent, and mostly still. He listened, as he did to all those strangers. He could remember the faces of men, begging for their lives, spinning wild stories of their families and their children. That had never caused him to avert his hand, nor stay God’s blade. War, even if it was not called that, took away the mercy that belonged to lesser, weaker men.
indent Twin flames burned in their eyes, trapped in gold and cobalt. The story could have been a metaphor—if it was, Gabriel missed this. What he did not miss was the surname, one that cut through the smoke and fog of memory like a knife. “Gabriel,” he offered, then paused to consider his words. “You would probably recognize Lykoi over my father’s name,” he continued. “Phasma’s son, I take it.” Not a question; he wondered now how he had forgotten that woman’s eyes after the way they had looked at him.
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[html] cake
i'm just a boat on the ocean
cakeThe story was more than a metaphor; it was the reason for Bane having returned to the province in which he was born. It held meaning for him, in some twisted sense it drove him beyond even what he had expected when he had first heard it himself. He had a reason for telling it, or at least he believed he did. Perhaps things would change, although at the moment that seemed unlikely. His head was alive and he recalled the days when he would visit the dying jackal for more words of truth.
cakeAnd time would tell, he had said; and so it would.
cakeWhen the halfling spoke, Bane found another reason to be curious about this man who had invited himself into his fire. He could now identify that scent that Gabriel carried with him, although it wasn't much more than a name to him. "Inferni," he stated calmly. "You're their leader?" It was more of a statement than anything, phrased in question format to maintain his standards of formality. Some leaders were more obvious than others, and this halfling really did remind the doctor of someone. Someone who would have been insulted for the comparison. He wondered how long Gabriel had known he was Phasma's son. "I am. Is she alive?"
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indent There was no justification in Gabriel for returning home. The only things that held reason, held any permissible cause, were in a realm that he alone lived in. God did not speak to the weak-minded and the unjust. That much was in His Will, and though Gabriel could never claim to understand it (nor would he) he obeyed that Voice and that Command just the same.
indent A slight gesture suggested that Bane was correct in his assumption. Inferni had been his badge for so long he often forgot that in many respects he could be mistaken for a wolf. Desperately, Gabriel tried to recall his companion’s mother, found her face, and saw it soon joined by another. He frowned.
“No. I don’t remember how long ago she passed, but I believe it was before the fire.” These trifle dates and periods of time were fleeting, and though Phasma had been sympathetic to Inferni, he had not forgotten she had come from the pack his mother had laid to waste. The pack he had aided his mother in lying to waste.
indent “Is that why you came here?” Nothing in his tone suggested the suspicion that even now clung to his pelt like the dead leaves and dust.
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[html] cake
i'm just a boat on the ocean
cakeThe news of his mother was not a surprise, nor did it particularily affect him emotionally. He had never known the woman, save for those first few short weeks of his life. Nothing in memory. He had her eyes and her colouring, and through no fault of her own, it was all he ever would have from her. Vaguely, he wondered what -- or who -- had killed her. These were stories of times he would never know.
cake"No," Bane answered decidedly, calmly. "Although it is a nice benefit, I must say. Knowledge for the sake of it." The doctor's blue eyes focused on his companion. Gabriel was blurry behind the crackling fire, and the light soaked through everything Bane saw, saturating the world in red and yellow. Halos formed over the trees. "I would like to tell you why I came here, Gabriel, but that's another story for another time. Would it be alright if I visited you in Inferni in the future, when my leg has healed?" Bane could be called a lot of things -- a sinner, a killer, a drug addict -- but above it all he was a man of his word. The instinct aside, he wanted to know the truth, if the dead prophet's last words had been correct. Nonetheless, if told to stay away, he would do so.
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indent The absence of emotion in regards to his mother’s death did not perturb Gabriel; he had, after all, ripped his own brother out of the world. What had happened that day had cost him a sister. It was a sacrifice he felt no remorse in making. His youngest siblings were no longer part of Inferni. They had too much of their father in them.
indent At the request, however, Gabriel’s eyes narrowed slightly. Instinct told him not to trust such a thing, but he was curious as to what had brought the man here, of all places, if not his family. Something, certainly. Something that he did not trust. “You realize I helped drive your pack from their home,” he said quietly.
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[html] cake
i'm just a boat on the ocean
cakeTrust was something that came seldom to Bane, whether given or received. Something about the cryptic wolf had failed to sit right with many of the more observant folks he had encountered in the past; they were both right and wrong to think that way. He was safe only if his own trust had been earned; until then he was a potential enemy, and intelligence and patience like his own was a deadly mix. Rarely did it affect him either way. Company wasn't something he craved, except to relieve his insatiable curiosity. It had been said once that no man was an island. Bane would easily prove them wrong.
cakeWhen his companion spoke, the doctor smiled at him through the hazy firelight and shook his head very slightly. Much time had passed since then and Bane refused to hold grudges that weren't his own; he refused to adopt ideas and prejudices that weren't his own. Blood wasn't always thicker than water, and he had his own path to follow, a path that had never been defined by this place, by his family, but rather by Fate herself. "It was never my pack," he replied easily. Nonetheless, this was a common thing, Bane found, this mistake that Gabriel had just made: he was assuming that Bane was someone who cared.
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indent Under his waist, Gabriel’s hindquarters pushed against the ground and put him on all fours. The answer gave him all the answer he needed. Bane’s own mother had chosen to let go of her grievances when a greater threat appeared in her own home. Forgiveness was an essential part of Gabriel’s own religion, though it had long since been forgotten and left by the wayside of long-gone crosses, ash and ruins.
Gabriel smiled thinly, and gave a nod. It could have been approval, or simple recognition.
indent “You can come if it pleases you,” he offered. Shaking his head slightly, freeing the silver-colored chain around his neck, a clattering of likewise-colored charms rang over the pop and hiss of the fire and were silenced.
“I’d advise you not crossing the borders on your own, though.” It was half-warning, though his tone was easy. With that, the Aquila turned back the way he had come, and walked off into the night.
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