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Jefferson! On a particularly nice part of shattered coast…
It wasn’t a daily event, but even the most cautious of pups needed to venture on their own once in a while. Her brothers did so, even if they didn’t talk much about it why couldn't she? Of course there were the rumors she had heard about that spoke of the ocean. They said that it was a million times bigger then Rabbit Lake, and that the shore was just miles and miles of sand and rock. It would have had a lager impact on her in she had know how long a mile truly was, and how to count to a million.
Still there was a mystery that surrounded it, and it drew the pup out of her homeland and onto one of the well-worn trails that led her away from the protection of the boundaries. She knew to follow the scent of salt as soon as it touched her nose, and made her way though forest and then over rock until the scent drifted to her.
The cold day was absent of wind, making the sun’s presence worthwhile. It sent steams of heat down toward her, keeping any warmth she made under her thick chocolate coat. Of course she would only travel during the light hours of day, night being a far to scary time.
Her paws traveled over ice slicked rocks, until they gave way to long stings of dead tan colored grasses. Many were matted over by the snow, but still made for difficult travel. But she could hear it now, the crashing waves of high tide and the calls of the gulls that pecked at the sand. Growing tired, she sat among the sand dunes and sulked. Still unable to see the ocean waters she regained her strength before tackling the heavy sand, thick grasses and jagged rocks.
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He needed to retire, already.
Four years old, and his life had already become a bit too much for him. Two or three years a loner, a few months a pack member. A few weeks, a subleader. A few days, the leader. He wanted to limp himself off a cliff somewhere. Jefferson had never wanted to lead anything, let alone a pack that was actually prospering. The moment he'd been thrown into that subleader position, Phoenix Valley began its brief journey in doubling in size completely, and Deuce's availability had been undeniably limited since Lucifer had reappeared, and a lot of the load had fallen onto him. He'd accepted a number of new faces, scolded a few more, and consoled the former leader to no avail. Jefferson knew he'd "grown up", somehow, even though he was already full grown.
Needless to say, opportunities to frolic away from the pack were especially slim, but he'd manage to sneak his way from the lands and take some time to himself to enjoy the winter scenery and brisk winds--without nagging thoughts or familiar faces he'd rather not think about to bother him. In fact, Jefferson had traveled quite far from "home", the Patriarch limping all the way. He could have shifted into his two-footed form and enabled himself easier travel and quicker speed, but he was well aware of how fast life was moving all of a sudden. He needed that opportunity to slow down and take his time more than anything.
He was not particularly fond of cold weather, just as he was uncomfortable in hot weather. Jefferson preferred autumn, long gone already, or the later months of spring when the earth was beginning to renew himself. For such a pessimistic grump that he was, he didn't much care for the dead-looking trees, though when their branches were coated with ice and the snow was falling, even January could become mildly enjoyable.
What he didn't enjoy about January, however, was seeing children by themselves in the cold, out in the middle of nowhere.
It was particularly warm that day devoid of any wind, thus Jefferson tried to put himself at ease. The Shattered Coast was somewhat far from any of the territories--his pack, of course, being the closest, and this child was not one he recognized. She was... pouting, but for only a moment; seconds later she was on her feet again, romping around through the unsnowed grasses and rocks without any sort of supervision in sight. Somehow she didn't notice him, either, standing at a short distance away and staring one-eyed at the energetic little creature with a somewhat perplexed look on his face. "Hey," he said gruffly, probably too much so. "Where's your parents?"
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Since she was so close it was just stupid to give up now. Determined to not return home without setting her eyes on the ocean she propelled herself forward, hopping through the grasses and gaining speed. Mati got only a few feet before a voice called to her. Ears flattened against her head, and she froze in her place. It was a harsh voice that told her that she was certainly in trouble.
Both of her mothers had scolded her, though she had never really done anything that called for stern punishment. Not used to be called out so abruptly, she turned to face the male but eyes averted his gaze. It took a few breaths to calm her heart and gain the courage needed to look him in the eye. He was as harsh look as his voice, with a long scar don his face and one eye shut tight. His curious features brought her out of her timid state.
Unashamed about her staring she answered him idly. Wells I fink momma Nani is ats the mansion and momma Anu is huntings. But I weally dono. Hoping that her answer would satisfy him she looked away again, suddenly aware that it was rude to stare.
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He wished he could have said he hated kids, that he never wanted any, that he wanted nothing to deal with them or their pregnant mothers. Jefferson still did not understand what value they had in raising, having decided they were more trouble than they were worth--this pup was proving that to be true, evidently--and yet most of closer comrades had bundles of their own. Yes, he had developed a fondness for one of DaVinci's kids, but that didn't mean anything. Iskata herself had so many of the little rascals running around, he couldn't keep track of them all. Not only that, but some were grown, some were children, some were adopted, and she was still popping them out as well. Now that she was blind and miserable, he guessed maybe the latter would finally come to a stop. She'd abandoned Zana, after all. She'd shown that children were not as valuable as everyone seemed to make them out to be.
His eye looked down on the little thing, and he wasn't quite moved with compassion. He wasn't worrying his head off, he wasn't wondering if her parents were laying dead somewhere close, he wasn't willing to adopt her. Jefferson was just a passerby, that was all. That was all, right? It took a moment for the adult to translate the child's words from their... language. Nani? Anu? He had no clue who they were, but supposed he didn't know very many outside his own pack, anyway. Jefferson was at comfortable terms with Dahlia de Mai, considering he respected the leader and the subleader was his half-brother, but Crimson Dreams and Inferni? AniWaya? He remembered Ember, but she wasn't a leader. Some pack ambassador he was turning out to be. "You're here by yourself?" He gave the child a sarcastic, scowling look, only then noticing that she was staring at him like he had four heads. "You never seen a cyclops before?" He muttered, only partially sarcastic.
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I fink so.. Her voice trailed off as she looked behind her, making sure that there wasn’t any beast following her. Maybe he knew something that she didn’t, being taller then she. His voice drew her back again, eyes venturing up the scar along his nose and resting on the socket that held on eye.
She cocked her head to the left ever so slightly when she heard the word she didn’t quite understand. Her vocabulary wasn’t as vast as everyone else’s seemed to be. Unsure why other needed to say things that didn’t make any sense to her, she could only striated her crown and nod. Well, no.
Instantly she realized that it was she staring that might be bothering him. She looked away, but couldn’t help her curiosity. Out of the corner of her eye she spied his face, hoping he wouldn’t notice. You know you ownly haves one eye? She spoke blinking, as she fought to see one eye with another, it was impossible. Maybe he hadn’t noticed yet.
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She clearly hadn't heard of a cyclops before, and this concept somehow both amused and inspired him. The beast decided to have a little fun, resisting a smile when she pointed out his one eye (though he did roll it sarcastically in reaction). He feigned mild surprise a moment, reaching a paw up to his eye socket and patting at it (ouch; why was that tender, anyway?). "You're right... there's no eye there, is there?" He huffed to himself before Jefferson bent down a little, moving closer to her level and pointing his one good eye at her.
"I'm surprised you've never heard of cyclops...es," he said, raising his brows and crossing his forepaws as he settled his stomach down onto the ground, tail waving and dusting the soil quietly. "I hear they're terrible beasts... That they're a thousand feet tall, and they, uh... they have great big teeth, like big knives!" He flashed his teeth and fangs and pointed a claw at them for emphasis, then began to snicker to himself. "You'd better watch out... I also hear they eat little chubby puppies for breakfast... puppies just like you...!" He smirked, tail beginning to wag as his voice dropped down to a whisper, as if telling her a secret: "You want to know what a cyclops looks like...? They only have one eye!"
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She didn’t scoff at his lies, or even eye him with suspicion. She could have lied, and said she didn’t fear any beast! Or she could have at least stared blankly with no feeling. Stare, she did, but with a much more apparent emotion upon her face then disbelieve or suspicion. Fear was typical for the meek female, but her courage was growing. It was a delicate flower in its time of breaching the soil’s surface. Just passed the dirt it peaked out into the open, waiting for nourishment so that it might blossom. Instead, this male sent it back to its earthen grave.
Monster still frequented her nightmares and this new species, the Cyclops, would be making an appearance quite soon. Her eyes were large, and only her nose twitched with anxiety. The rest of her stood stark still, hoping to bled back into the foreground and melt away as if she had never excited. So in the end, when all his words were spoke, he claimed that he was one of these very creatures. A Cyclops.
Your one too then? Her voice squeeked as she spoke. It was hard to get the words out, trying to be nothing more then snow and shore grass. But if she had heard correctly, he wasn’t a thousand feet tall, which she was sure was taller then her alabaster mother who was the tallest wolf in creation. Of course she had seen knives longer then his teeth, in the kitchen she really wasn’t allowed to be in.
Her mind worked, shadowing the fear that he had created. Maybe, just maybe he was something else. Something like her. Buts, you musts be a pup cyploses! She paused looking at his face, Cus you arnts thaaatt big. Her realization was brilient, and she hopped from her seat in excitement. She knew for a fact that pups were much more fun and far less frightening then adults.
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He hadn't expected to get much of a reaction out of her anyway, being that it was he was the oldest and grumpiest of grumps whose sense of humor was only funny to him, somehow. Well... at least DaVinci caught on sometimes, anyway. Jefferson was mildly delighted at how big her little eyes got and how shocked she became all of a sudden, but that quickly washed away when the child became too smart for her own good. Ah, well. Jefferson was never particularly fond of fear directed his way, even if it was his own fault. He didn't want people afraid of him, no, but he'd rather they were afraid of him than nipping at his heels or planning some sort of terrible mutiny or... whatever wolves did when they got pissed.
"Nah," he replied, straightening his back as he pushed his three-legged form back into a comfortable, sitting position. "I'm not a pup. I guess I'm just a smaller, nicer cyclops, then." The beast rolled his shoulders and shrugged somewhat. Was he even all that nice in the first place? Hell, he certainly didn't think so, but at least the kid wouldn't be forever scarred or something. The last thing Jefferson needed was a pup who grew into a homicidal maniac suddenly bent on destroying Phoenix Valley and its three-legged gimp-leader cyclops. Bah. "My name's Jefferson," he said calmly, turning his eye down towards her and donning a calmer, less hideous face than usual (as hard to avoid as that was). "I live in a pack called Phoenix Valley. It's not too far from here, but where did you wander away from?"
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Of course he did seem old, he had that scruffy tattered look that adults usually had. She wondered why they all seemed worn around the edges, even with gray around their eyes and noses. It must just be something that happened, the longer she lived the larger she seemed to get. It all made some sort of sense, though she didn’t mind leaving most of the explanation as a mystery. In her mind there would always be unanswered questions.
Her crown bobbed in a small nod, things were clearer now. He was small like she was big. An eye glanced at her oversized paw that sat happily beneath her. They were only getting bigger, while the rest of her body grew in length they grew in width. She watched him as he introduced himself. Names had always been a secondary notion to her, meeting many with out learning where they came from or what they were called. It was nice to know who he was so quickly; Mati might even take up asking names much earlier in the conversation from now on.
“I’m Mati Church. I lives in Crimson Dreams.” She smiled, proud to give say she was a Crimsonite. She had spoken slowly so that the words came out right. “My momma is the Comnander theres.” Her excitement only grew as she spoke, “And my ovher ones a Lieutenents Cornal. And I’ms a Pettsy Ofvicers.” Her speech began to dwindle the more she spoke, overly excited that she had finally learned all the ranks of the pack. Her tail whipped behind her, watching to see his reaction after he heard where she stood in the pecking order, oblivious to the idea that each pack had their own unique system.
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mati be cute. jeffers be old.
She was an excitable little thing; it didn't take much to get the pup up and hopping around like she was on some possibly illegal and dusty substance, which of course the brute doubted. Jefferson smirked a little when she introduced herself-- Church, Church... Never heard that one before--but of course, as she continued, she was a Crimson Dreams child. He had little experience with that pack even as a leader, but from what he had heard and seen of them (even if briefly), the pack was apparently harmless and not one to worry about. He'd met that other girl--Ember Phoenix?--but she was from that other mystery pack, AniWaya. Apparently it was a tribe or something... big deal.
He was taken aback a little when she began throwing out jumbled, child-tainted words that apparently were rank names, though they were foreign to the one-eyed gimp. It seemed Crimson Dreams was run noticeably different from Phoenix Valley, as their pups were frolicking around in the middle of nowhere unsupervised and their rankings seemed confusing and repetitive. Of course, he couldn't really speak of it. Phoenix Valley's ranks made hardly any sense to him at all... all the rank names were just foreign words someone probably had made up. Oh, that Iskata. "That's... good," he said, a little surprised by her extreme enthusiasm. Of course, he paused when she mentioned two mothers and wondered if she'd just made a mistake. At least she was cute, anyway. "You have... two mothers?" Well, gee. At least they were both still around for her. He'd had a mother who hated her kids and a father who vanished, apparently. Great.
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A little out of breath from all the words she had spouted, Mati tried to calm her excitement. Knowing that once she got herself together her breathing would be a little easier. His response made her smile again; of course it was a good thing! Who else would be the Petty Officer if she wasn’t, and she was the child of a Commander destined for great things.
His question confused her. In the little world that belonged to her everyone had two mothers. What else could there be? She imagined that some may only have one, and it would be impossible to have three. Two was the certainly the average.
Of course. Her tone was mater of fact and she looked at him wondering why he hadn’t heard of such a thing. Don’t you? Suddenly there was hole in the fabric of her world, doubting what she had always believed. Thinking deeply purple eyes watched him, peering at his one eye. Maybe Cyclopes had babies like flowers instead of the way wolves did.
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He stared down at the child for some time, as if whatever she had just said were complete blasphemy and gibberish in his mind. There was still that sort of childhood innocence in her, that much was obvious, but even this seemed a little beyond that somehow. She was totally serious. It wasn't like Jefferson had anything against the "two mothers" thing, not at all (actually, he could have cared less), it was more that it hadn't occurred to her that it was an unnatural parenthood. He wondered if she knew her father, whomever he was, or how she came about. Of course, the brute was no parent and in no place to be teaching kids that weren't his (not that he would ever have to, of course!), so he just kept his mouth shut.
"No, actually," he shrugged his shoulders. Solitary green eye wandered away. There were no memories in his head of his parents, only information given to him by his siblings and former leader. He couldn't guarantee anything about the truthfulness of it all. He chose not to think about it, usually. "I had a mom and a dad... but I don't remember them now." I lost my memory, he could have said. My dad took off when I was three months old. My mom hates my little brother. I think my adopted brother is dead. "Us cyclopses have bad memories, you know." He offered some sort of stupid smirk.
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She gave him a nod of understanding, though her mind reeled at the thoughts he provoked inside her skull. Eye wondered away for a moment she contemplated it, just one… It was unfortunate she decided, but he didn’t seem to need her pity still having what he called a dad. Though she was sure that it wasn’t as good as having two moms, it seemed to be enough for a Cyclops to grow up strong. Well sort of.
His justification put everything in a better sense, and it explained a lot. And though she was a bit sad that he didn’t remember his parents, there was a much more pending issue. For the pup the most important thing that her memory held was the way home. It was imprinted in her brain, the scents of the trails that would take back to those two mothers as well as the landmarks she had set out.
I didn’t know that. She explained as her concern grew, How bads is it? she wondered as she looked into his single green eye. She would hate to think that he wouldn’t be able to make it back to his home. The question churned and grew in many more, still she focused on the main worry. Do you remember where you live?
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[html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j40/k ... ump/01.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> That stupid smirk shifted into a more comfortable, honest smile at her words. He enjoyed her innocence, her lack of overall knowledge. It became obvious how incredibly foreign the concept of a bad memory was to her, not to mention how worried she suddenly became over such a condition. It occurred to him that she possibly had never wandered off on her own before, or at least not as far as she had. He wondered if her mothers were looking for her, or how long she'd been away from home now without even knowing the difference. Perhaps he would walk her back for safety's sake, that is, if she'd allow it... but considering how important home was to her, he doubted she would not be able to find the way back herself. "It's pretty bad," he shrugged, smiling at her. "I know where my pack is, since that's my home. I know where I was born, but I've never been there and I don't remember anything from when I was growing up." A pause. "You should be happy you don't have a bad memory like me. You know your way home, right?" [/html]
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There was comfort written on her face as he spoke, knowing that he knew where he belonged. It was important, getting back to where your family was. But it didn’t seem like his pack was his family. Not like hers anyways. Mati watched with the same curious face, all the new ideas she was bringing to her. Forgetting such important things, huge spans of time. It was all so impossible. He was right, cyclops did have horrible memories.
She gave a confident nod, she was sure that she knew her way home. Of course. Hopping to her paws Mati looked behind her, knowing that the way was in the opposite direction of the ocean. Looking out into the vast dunes and tall grasses, the horizon was longer then she had remembered.
Sitting with more calm then she was used to violet eyes looked back to the larger male. Giving herself a moment before she spoke, Mati tried to keep from panicking. Well, I thought I did. She had been so worried that he wouldn’t remember where he lived that she forgot all about what direction she was to go in.
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Clearly, she was lost. For some reason, Jefferson could sympathize with that. He'd spent months--years!--wandering around completely clueless as to where he'd come from, who he was, or why he couldn't remember a thing of it all. Wandering like an idiot had not only lost him an eye and his memory at the same time (waking up brainless with blood pouring out of his head was an experience he'd thankfully not met a second time), but had also cost him his leg and plenty of blood through the dozens of scars littered throughout his body. Somehow he knew that wouldn't happen to the kid, but... well, at least the thought was there, somehow.
He rose to his feet slowly, yawning as he went. "All right, calm down. I'll bring you home." Jefferson cast his green eye side to side, hoping there wouldn't be any witnesses to his little soft spot. The last thing he needed was Phoenix Valley knowing that he'd gone soft. "Crimson Dreams, right? I know where it is, but I've never been. Guess it'll be a learning experience for both of us." He smiled down at the girl, then nodded his head in the desired direction. "Let's get going before it gets colder." That said, his limping began once more, and onward they moved.
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