[html] Hours of fruitful exploration came with the following morning, as Valentine had wasted no time in checking out the various things that Fatin hadn't shown him about Jaded Shadows. It had been far too cold to explore what was outside of the pack den on that particular evening. But by the time afternoon had rolled around again and the clouds moved in to let more snow fall, he had returned to the warmth and shelter of the pack den, losing himself in the depths of its network of twists and turns. Set between all of the resting quarters was where he found a makeshift library, and delved into what all of its shelves had to offer. Some of the books were more worn than others, some he had already read. Obviously most of them had come from somewhere else, but there was quite a selection at rest on the crooked shelves. His gold eyes traced over their worn spines, zoning out to the world behind him in hopes that he would find something to interest his setting restlessness. [/html]
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Tan eyelids fluttered, and a soft sigh escaped the Graduierter's parted jaws. Endymion lay on the narrow cot in his den, arms and legs sprawled out in the crucifix position. There was no telling what time it was. He had practically passed out at noon, so tired for no reaso in particular. Grunting, the two-year-old pushed himself up and stalked awkwardly out of the den, swaying with the leftover grogginess. Soon he regained his slightly clumsy, but steady, stroll and began to wander through the corridors. Taking the long way out, Endymion passed the family quarters and headed through the library. Usually empty, the chamber held a dark stranger. Stopping abruptly, he observed the younger male. The amber male certainly had not seen him before, but the scent of Jaded Shadows was on him. Releasing an inaudible sigh of relief (what if a stranger had gotten into the den!) the Graduierter spoke, staying true to his friendly nature. "Can you read them?"
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[html] By the time someone else got within close proximity he had taken notice, albeit tensing a little until such a fellow proved to be friendly. Watching him out of the corner of his eye, he didn't need to not take much of a notice of him until he spoke, but instead peered away from the spines of the books with a faint smile. “Sure can. I've been able to read them since I was fairly little. My mother taught me to read,” he said, wondering if reading was something uncommon where he was. But if it were, then why a library in the middle of a well working cavern? “What about you—do you have a favourite?” It was easy to be friendly right back, because it was the right thing to do. He wasn't there to start trouble by disrupting the higher ups, but rather to work with them. A lesson taught him early on was that pack was like family; something that Valentine did want to carry out as a good practice. [/html]
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His smile broadened a little at the reciprocated friendliness. At the other's question, however, Endymion shook his head, mouth fading into a slant. A tawny hand reached up to grasp at the auburn locks; the young man's trademark. "No," he said, closing the distance between them. "I don't know how to read." The russet wolf patted the bookcase. He didn't mind not being able to read, really. He did wonder what compelled others to read, though. What could be better than real life? Oh, Endymion was a simple creature in many ways. "Do you have a favorite?" the pirate-son asked the other, glancing back at him with his pale green gaze.
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[html] Perhaps it should have not come as no surprise to Valentine that others may not have been able to read, but for a moment his brow knotted in a baffled expression. He was tempted to ask how he couldn't read but refrained from being so rude. Maybe he had gotten used to living a finer life. “Hm, I have several favourites, but I'd have to say that I enjoyed reading Goethe's Faust. It's quite a story about a man who makes a deal with the devil,” he said, musing from what he remembered about the tale. He had read it over what seemed a year ago, yet the story was quite fresh in memory. “If you ever pick up reading, you should sit down and read it yourself, you might like it.” [/html]
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Endymion's eyebrows disappeared under his auburn bangs; what a story indeed! He wondered why anyone would want to read such a story, but he had been raised to be polite, as the other had, so he said nothing. Instead, he nodded and said, "I'll keep it in mind." Absently, he turned back to the accumulation of books resting inside the cylindrical room. Who had taken the time to bring all them there, from the human city? That was a pretty decent walk from Ashen Mountain, he had to say. Peering up, he caught sight of the books that were quite a distance above the both of them, though Valentine was a good bit taller than his redwolf counterpart. Glancing back, Endymion realized that he hadn't introduced himself, and neither had the other. "I'm Endymion Russo," he offered, along with his hand.
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[html] Endymion's name sparked quite a shock in the memory banks of the younger Valentine, who almost asked a question rather than returning his name. He doubted that his name would be as monumental as a Russo's. “Valentine Valiant,” he replied as he took the other man's hand, finding the exchange of a handshake to be as common as an introduction. At least that was one second nature that wasn't out of place in this place. “And you said you were a Russo? Any relation to Rurik?” He had never met Rurik, but he had picked up a few things around the Syemv house as a child, if not from his mother herself. She had been quite fond of the Russian. [/html]
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The two-year-old gave Valentine a look crossed between befuddlement and amusement. It was the second time he had been asked that question since he had returned; the first time, he dared to say, saved him from a sound beating. "He was my uncle," he replied, shrugging slightly. One couldn't tell from looking at him that he was related to the pirate king, or his brother. The only bits of white on him were in inconsequential places, and the yellow of Thorn's eyes only lessened the intensity of Fatin's green by a fraction. He opened his mouth to add something else, but then closed it once again. He doubted that his father's name would make any difference in the conversation. The Russian was long gone, most likely never to return. Endymion was slowly coming to terms with that fact. Instead, he continued on the topic of Rurik, whom he had never met. "Did you know him?"
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[html] “Not personally, but my mother did. They were good friends when Syemv was around,” he went on to say, now that he had figured out just where Endymion stood on that family tree. Figuring out his mother wasn't all that hard either; he smelled like her, and had her fiery red locks to boot. “And Fatin… is your mother, I'm guessing?” Through stories of Jaded Shadows, he knew that it was just one of the packs that contained quite an extensive family, Chimera being the other. As deeply interwoven as everything was there, the knowledge that he was probably a bit disturbing, given that he was relatively an outsider to the group and probably would always be. [/html]
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Syemv. How would it have been if he had lived with his father? Would he be speaking Russian and sailing the seven seas? The idea almost made him chuckle, but given the gravity of the thought he refrained. At the mention of his mother, however, he did smile. "Naturally," said Endymion, nodding. Who wouldn't guess he was related to the grand lady? He looked just like her. And Salvaged, thought he, blandly. But he pushed this fact from his awareness. It wasn't weird talking about family ties with the stranger. He actually quite enjoyed it. However, he didn't know a thing about Valentine's family. The name seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it. "Who was your mother?" Best to know about your friends' families, right?
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It was that proud smile that certainly set things a true ease around Valentine, who was quite proud of his heritage. Though he didn't know very much about his mother's side of the family, he had been around his father's at various points in their lives. In sense, had he not inherited his mother's honey-gold eyes, he could have easily been the spitting image of his father in all of that dark-furred glory. “Her name is Akumu, and she was a friend of your mothers. She used to lived in Jaded Shadows for quite some time,” he said, wondering fate would have it that these two had also met on a whim. “She eventually moved to Syemv, I think your Uncle asked her to. My father is Cross, who was from Storm, but he also moved to Syemv after my mother, which is where I was born.” It was quite a mouthful, but something that Valentine took pride in. Just as he would eventually take pride in being a second generation of Shadower, too.
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How remiss Endymion had been, failing to ask about Valentine's father as well. The younger wolf didn't seem to mind, which was something he was glad of. However, as the other spoke, the russet wolf couldn't help but feel slightly envious of the boy's fortune. He seemed truly proud to have a whole family. While Endymion considered the pack a part of his family, he still wanted an actual father, to talk to and spend time with. And, oh, how he longed to let this superficial wish go. At length, the pale-eyed wolf returned the newcomer's smile with one of his own, though it was watered down. "Akumu sounds familiar," he told Valentine, then adding honestly, "But I don't recall Cross." Shrugging apologetically, and again mussing up the back of his head, he went on to ask: "How are they?" It seemed a little odd that he was without his parents. True, Endymion had left his home at the same age of a year, but the boy seemed truly fond of his family. Had something happened?
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It wasn't much of a loss that Endymion didn't know Valentine's father. Cross had never lived in Jaded Shadows, though he had known this was the place that his parents had met some odd three or four years ago. That aside, even in Syemv, his father always stuck close to home. It was his mother who was the wanderer, which could have been the pitfall of the Valiant men. “They're well, actually. Didn't really want me to come back up here, but what can I say? I'm the only boy they have and I guess it's normal for parents to fuss over us all of the time.” He was happy for his freedom, though somewhat appreciative that they had hung onto him for so long as well. He had learned a lot from both of them in just a matter of time before he had left about what this place was really all about. But… he wasn't sure if he fully believed it or not.
“So, what do you usually do around here for fun?” Seeing how Jaded Shadows was so much different from the seaside locale he had been raised from and closely knit, he almost wondered if they had their own little events that they did. With as much surplus land and objects within a reasonable reach, it was easy for his imagination to run wild with ideas from festivals to luxury of finer tastes. Oh, it was far too easy to think about to musically inclined canines, gypsies, and other worldly creatures. But the reality of coming back to a place that was so very refined and simple was that they didn't have those kind of things. Which always meant there were new things to try, right?
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sorry for the wait! this is pretty bad.
Endymion felt strangely relieved upon hearing news of his parents' health. Valentine seemed like a reasononably nice fellow, and he didn't deserve to be exposed to such misfortunes as loosing a parent. "Well," said the russet wolf, placing his hands on his hips and looking off to the side in a quizzical manner. "There's reading, obviously, if y'know how to—" which the yearling did, "—and there's a stargazing stone on the north side of the mountain." It was funny; Endymion had always found himself busy and having some sort of fun during his days within the territory, but somehow he couldn't describe what he actually did. He would try again.
After a moments pause and thought, the two-year-old added: "I'm normally kept on my toes, trying to keep up with the kids. Then, there's making sure the pack has enough firewood to keep this place warm." Odd jobs. That's what the two-year-old did all day, pretty much every day, yet he never grew tired of it. It was his duty as the oldest son of Fatin to help support Jaded Shadows. However, he doubted Valentine would consider such work 'fun.' "What did you do for fun back at your home?"
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Pfft, wasn't bad at all and the wait wasn't long either. Hope you're having (or had) a good holiday! 
[html] http://twilight.silens.net/rp/val/t01.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Reading, stargazing, babysitting, playing… oh, they didn't have that much of a difference to deal with. Though Valentine had never had to babysit any siblings, he imagined there had to be a little bit of work to be found there. His unruly behaviour may have been tamed, but it didn't come without some hard parenting, either. “About the same things, though there were other skills to pick up. Wood crafting, fishing, I went with learning to play music, but there were a lot of folks who rode in and out on boats. Travel seems to be a big theme any more.” He had thought briefly about being a sailor, but it turned out that he was unfortunately not a very good boatswain at all—sailors weren't supposed to get seasick.
“There was always learning how to do the things that the humans did too, like swordplay and acting… but I never really got into those things.” Dabbled here and there, learnt something else, it was really all life was about. Valentine hadn't quite found his niche, so to speak. “But most of the time I was pretty content to stay close to home and do things there. Most of what I've learnt I know from my parents, which they pretty much learned from living here.” Not that he had ever put much thought to it, but he had changed considerably from the time he had been born in Syemv to being nearly two years old himself. Albeit there would always be some resent towards his parents for leaving it in the first place, he also saw the good in it as well. There simply wasn't the same sort of things going on here. But at least it was far from unpleasant, he could say. [/html]
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thanks! you too. and i love your table.
Endymion didn't really understand why wolves were so interested in doing things the humans did. Of course, some of their habits were quite bizarre and therefore worth experimenting with, but the two-year-old enjoyed doing things that came natural to him more than trying "new" things. Each to his own, he supposed.
"This place is pretty sleepy," he said, speaking of the land in general. "But if you pay attention long enough, you can see a lot of beauty in it." Some mornings, Endymion would wake up before the sun, and climb the mountain to the Stargazing Stone. Then, when the sun crept over the treeline and hit the ice and snow clinging to the earth, the sparkling prisms of light would take his breath away. The pirate-son smiled faintly, and then gave a short chuckle. "You'll really enjoy it here, I promise. And, if you're interested in human things, there's an old city south of here."
He couldn't recall the last time he had been there. Perhaps that would be a decent adventure, when it stopped snowing.
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[html] http://twilight.silens.net/rp/val/t01.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Endymion seemed quite eager to assure him that he would enjoy it, though Valentine had already been enjoying what little time he had spent in Jaded Shadows already. There was enough history, coupled with what his mother and father had passed on to him, and along with what Fatin had, that he could burn literal days trying to take in all of it. Jaded Shadows itself had generation upon generation living within its walls—something that Valentine didn't see every day. But he was very sure that it had a hidden beauty about it, because beauty was truly in the eye of the beholder. There were plenty of things to be considered diamonds in the rough, hopefully.
“Ah, the city. I came through there on my way here. I found a battered up ol' violin lying in a gutter near the subway. It's quite a well travelled place for the shape that it's in, isn't it?” Never mind that he had been unfortunate enough to step on a piece of glass not two or three steps into the place and with the wind… well, things just didn't like to stay attached to things and in his case had come clattering to the ground. From signs, to sign posts, and everything in between, the city almost looked like a ghost town from a distance. But it had smelled very much alive, and eerie in its own little manner. He was quite naïve to just what really went on in the shadows. [/html]
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