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He wasn't really well enough to leave the den. But if nothing else, Lubomir was a stubborn one. He had left slowly, his bones aching dully. He could tell that Mew would not be pleased, but any more time cloistered and he could swear he would go mad. It seemed a good enough time to go and find his way around again. New packs might have sprung up. Perhaps he would find Pilot or Tayui again. Or his coyote friend, his book loving intellectual.
Leaving behind Dahlia, the grey male travelled towards Inferni. He didn't really know why he was going that way. He had no intention to get himself killed, not now that Skoll was dead. No one would help him. He could feel his heart clenching against the pain, and he quickly shut his mind to the memory. The forest was quiet, so quiet. Sleet fell slowly from the sky and Lubomir raised his muzzle towards the drizzle, welcoming the cool sensations after the stifling heat of the den. He sat on his haunches and stared towards the wastes of the Inferni. The grey male could not regret returning. Outside of Dahlia, there was nothing for him.
Save death.
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I am so, so sorry for taking this long. Seriously. D: *makes up with super long post!?*
[html] Unlike those in her family who were well-trained with a bow and arrow, Corona didn't have the best aim. In fact, if something was moving too fast, she often couldn't quite predict where it would go next to nail it before it got away. But when it came to something slow moving and oblivious, say, a hare, it was another story. The sleet that was half-raining and half-falling down around her didn't deter her from taking aim as a thinning, dark brown hare plodded calmly over the light snow, his furry feet digging relentlessly to the ground to find some tasty green to munch on. But like the last two, this one wouldn't have a prayer either.
Letting go of a near too taut string, the arrow shrieked through the wind and sleet, only making itself known a moment too late for the hare to bolt at its first inclination of danger. It seemed silly, she realised, to be bow-hunting creatures so small, but when it came to hunting for Corona, it wasn't like she was capable of shifting back to give them chase. Being two-legged put her at a disadvantage to hunt the traditional way, so she simply made do with what other skills she had. Learning to use the bow had been useful thing to do, though she was rusty. In essence, hunting was practice. Slipping loose from the stance she had worked hard to maintain as more than “decent” she lowered her arms and moved to gather the creature-turned-meal.
By then, the chill of the incoming weather was beginning to get to her and she decided it seemed right to seek shelter in the form of the mansion she had been holing up in; she had never been fond of the cold. Only a matter of minutes into her hike back had she picked out a scent that was just as curious as it were putrid, though her steps were quite direct in getting home. The hares were attached together and hanging from a thin line with fish hooks in their ears, dangling awkwardly from the quiver at her back, but this did not stop her from tensing when a sitting wolf came up and into her view. That dreadful smell was the same one that Talitha had reeked of when she had first come back into their fold.
“Waiting for something?” she called out conversationally once she had gotten close enough. Even though she could only imagine why someone from Dahlia would be so near to her borders, she kept the tone of her voice neutral. For all she knew and because it was a total possibility, Corona couldn't assume this wolf had anything to do with the war that they had waged. There were far too many travellers in the world and with it being winter, it would come as no surprise to her if packs didn't swell with size. So she only hoped that he was ignorant and polite, rather than all knowing and hostile. [/html]
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OOC: I am so slow with replies today, what the hell self! Don't worry about being late :3
The cold bit at his bones. The grey wolf stood unmoving, letting the cold wind and sleet buffet his body. He'd been debating going back. From here there were few changes to be see in Inferni. The skulls were there, as they had been when he'd first set foot in that godawful place. He wondered if any from Dahlia had died. Had any coyotes been lost to the war? He could see no problem with more of their lot dying. Looking at his paws, he smirked. When had he become so virulently anti-coyote? Admittedly, he'd met none in the Old Country, because they all seemed to avoid the cold. Even his travels had only yielded glances at them. Presumably they hated travelling?
He stood and shook himself, if only to get some feeling back into his body. There was nothing to be had here but memories and deep regrets. Once, in his foolish attempts to win over allies, he had promised Haku that he would protect Mew no matter what. He had given his word, out of pity for the female. Not that he could admit to such a thing. Pity was only marginally above contempt. The longer he stayed here the more bitter and unhappy he would become. Best go home and recover.
The footsteps came as a surprise and Lubomir turned around sharply. Her scent gave her away. Inferni. His back straightened and for all that she stood on two paws and not four like him, he tried to impose a presence he knew he lacked. She carried food and he wondered what kind of rank she held. Had she been there for the war? Did she hurt a Dahlian? She seemed to hold herself back, if her tone of voice was something to judge by. She certainly tried not to be hostile. The war was over, Lubomir reminded himself. Put it behind him and move on. "Not anything in particular, no. I come to watch the coyote pack from here and remind myself of how I nearly died from reckless behaviour. How it should never happen again. Do we not all wait for something?" In a sense, he was reminded of his talk to the wolf in the bookshop. Philosophy and of all the people to discuss it with, a coyote.
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[html] Corona determined two things from what she saw and said. He clearly thought he was the dominant creature of the pair and was spying on them. She was willing to let him get away with the first, not out of submission because she would have never deferred to him (a point made by her sharp gaze), but neutrality. The jury was out on the spying, though she had already made a point to let Gabriel know of their retained curiosity of what Inferni did. The question that he did ask however, sparked her own curiosity. “Of course we do,” she stated, “we always do. We wait for things without even knowing it.”
Science dictated that their bodies waited for every new breath. Their heart waited for every electrical impulse to make it twist and turn to send their blood coursing the miles upon miles of veins. They were born waiting for the end, come what may. “What do you think you'll accomplish watching our clan? Other than the memory jolt, I mean.” Maybe that was how he got his rocks off. Thinking about the past and any blood he could have or did spill. Or maybe he was just curious about how the whole thing had gone down and why it seemed they had all gone away licking their wounds. But no one had rubbed any salt in them recently, had they? [/html]
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OOC: Gruh. Last reply of the night. Need sleep. *braindead*
Lubomir had to be careful not to start anything. First of all, he had only just come back to this place. And secondly, who would he be talking to? She was certainly not Gabriel, although he could see some resemblance, which only really meant that she was family to Inferni's leader. Weren't they all related in that pack? Whatever the cause, she seemed to have decided that for now they would be equal. Lubomir acquiesced and indeed even bowed slightly, as if to show that he respected the boundaries she set. For now. "Then surely you would begrudge me a visit from afar. I have no intention of invading the borders. I suppose I am merely waiting to see what happens." Like a novel, where the villain was still mysterious by page 156, meaning that the characters had to wait for him to move again.
Memory jolt indeed. There was nothing to accomplish, nothing that he truly wanted, anyway. The memories of things passed were long ago buried in the depths of his mind. In all fairness, he supposed he was looking for the thrill. He wanted to show himself that he could be brave. A temptation of fate, a game of dice to see who would win: he or the gods. He cocked his head to the side, looking at the female intensely. "I doubt I will accomplish much. I suppose it is a way to pass the time. There are more interesting ways to do so, but I guess this is something of a novelty for me. I have been gone too long. My name is Lubomir Varg and as you can tell, I come from Dahlia. Would you deem me worthy of you name?" His manner was polite, as always. Though generally there would be a trace of humour or warmth in his voice, nothing of the sort this time. Why would he, anyway? She was a coyote and given enough incentive would probably kill him. Not that he hated her for it. He would do the same if she made that mistake. It was a queer sort of stalemate, but one which Lubomir enjoyed.
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[html] Somewhere distantly the words her father had spoken rang in the back of her mind about how no matter how many times they strayed away from the place, it drew them back. Just when she thought she would never go back, Marlowe had turned up to bring her home. And there she was. The fact that Lubomir had been there, gone, and come back was enough said, but the fact that he already knew what he was doing wouldn't accomplish much said a lot about his character.
“Deem your worthy of knowing my name,” she reiterated, mulling it over as through she needed to give it serious consideration. “I don't know if you are or not, since you had to ask.” That much was enough to draw a coy smile out of her. A timeless thing between coyote and wolf: teasing. “But the fact that you're sitting there doing nothing must mean that there isn't anything for you to do where your from. So are you just that low on the totem pole or high enough to consider yourself arrogant enough not to contribute to your pack?” She had after all, once lived in a wolf pack. The way her wolf of a father ran things couldn't have been different from their wolf neighbours, could it? [/html]
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The point of a journey was not the destination, but the lessons learned along the way. Before even coming to these lands, he had known little of hate and malice. It was seldom shown, and then only to intruders or truly disruptive members of the pack, which thankfully he had never had to deal with. He knew he had been a coward for most of his life and only meeting Skoll had changed that. Some might not agree, but then again, there were things he did not like in them. With the coyotes, he realised that he had never talked to them, content in the knowledge that they were the guilty party.
"I think a lot of it depends on how exactly you would define worth. I don't think there is a lot of friendship between coyotes and wolves here, it seems, so perhaps I won't ever be worthy in your eyes." Lubomir recalled the few coyotes he had seen in Europe and how there they did not seem to care if one was wolf, hybrid or coyote. They were interested in hawking their goods and as long as the bartering was good, there were no complaints to be had. So why the big wars here? "I think the humans said it best: curiosity is a killer. I hated your pack for a long time, for something that happened to someone I care deeply about. I was involved in the war. I suppose I simply wanted to see for myself why the need for war, violence and death. Could a truce not be struck with our packs? Or has it already been done? My position in the pack has nothing to do with my curiosity." That much he was certain of. He was still just a low joiner in Dahlia, but that meant nothing here. Not to him, anyway.
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Up to you whether or not Lubomir goes after her, I just didn't think Corona would hang around to talk to him long. XD
[html] “There's not much worth to be found in someone who harbours hatred,” she said, even though she knew she was guilty of the same thing. “But there is a truce. We leave each other alone and there won't be any problems.” They were all heathens, worthless creatures cursed by some unseen plague that made them recoil in the things that should have made them flourish. Wherever the hatred had started, it had been clutched tightly and now was commonplace. Other places in the world did not matter there and they were not imitated—or at least not overly—where they were. Maybe his duty played into his curiosity; either way she didn't trust what he would say.
Adjusting the grip on the items she carried, Corona proceeded to move on, but not without explaining something as a parting note. “And friendship is but one of many things that define worth here. I don't know where exactly you came from, but I'm sure you've noticed that things are done differently here. They always have been and surely always will be and why that is, I can't really say. Man never learned from his mistakes, so I doubt we will either.” Things would change, as it were inevitable, but in the end they simply made a perfect circle that was vicious. But she had tired of the conversation and at that point, simply wanted to go home. So with a parting glance, Corona moved on, leaving the wolf to do whatever he simply pleased. [/html]
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OCC: Sorry for the horrible delay! I'm going to end this here, as he wouldn't realistically go after her
Hate? Lubomir didn't hate the coyotes. Why should he? They had hurt Mew, sure, but that had been a long time ago and in some fashion, both the war and Skoll's death had changed a lot of things. He found he could no longer hate Asphyxia, no matter how hard he tried. Everything seemed to be blurring into the past more and more, like the memories of his sister, now dead longer than he cared to remember. "I personally harbour no hatred against you or your pack. I cannot speak for all of Dahlia, but if this truce holds, then that is enough for me." He had only just come back, who knew how much had happened in his absence?
When she walked by he did nothing to stop her. What if she became violent and attacked him? Instead, he watched her move away, thinking that they weren't that different, for all that they wanted to think that way. She was flesh and blood like him and if he really wanted to hurt her, she would bleed as he did, the same warm, sticky, red liquid as him. "Friendship is one of many things, I agree. But I think you are wrong. There must be some amends to be made, something more than a truce. I don't know if wolves and coyotes can ever be truly close, but if that day should come, I would like you to be there, so I may say to you that you were wrong and we did learn from our mistakes." Lubomir simply said nothing. What was there to say? Instead, he watched her depart until he could no longer she anything of her. With a sigh, he pushed himself off the ground and headed back into Dahlian territory.
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