[html] Jeffy.
Since Savina had told him about Iskata, his stomach had felt as thought it was twisted into a thousand knots. The only thing that settled it was being around his mate, and even then guilt gnawed at him from somewhere in the distance. How was it that Savina, someone who'd arrived with no relation to anyone in the area, knew about what had happened to his mother before he even did? Kansas was becoming even more of a recluse as the weeks passed, and he didn't know why. He had the girl of his dreams, a lot of family floating about, and a stable place to live. What was wrong with him?
The male shook his head as he neared the Phoenix Valley territory. Though he was in his favored canine form, the blue striped scarf Savina had given him was wrapped firmly around his neck, shielding him well from the cold. It had stopped raining the night before, giving the forest a clean, earthy scent. Once he'd stepped into the borders, he paused, chewing his lip nervously. He rarely visited other packs, but common sense told him to stay put until someone found him. A crisp bark followed by a slow howl, to alert of his presence anyone who might be around, and Kansas stood silently to wait. He wanted more than anything to see Iskata today, but he couldn't stay long. Savina was expecting him later.
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He'd been passing by, antsy and anxious to get up and move around after the previous day had been spent miserably boxed up watching the rain from the ranch window. Funny, how he'd made that something of his home, recently. It was rather central to the pack, easy to reach, easy to find. A library in the back somewhere gave him things to do, and he'd managed to master lighting a fire with one hand (don't ask him how). But even if he quite enjoyed the coziness and security of the quaint little ranch and the company of the wet, soggy animals he'd shooed into the barn outside at some point, the gimp was anxious to get up and get moving. His spirits had been higher, lately--couldn't explain why. Perhaps it was the initial grumpiness of Deuce's departure leaving or the ungodly hurricane of change that had blown through that was now beginning to fade away. Regardless, the three-legged cyclops was patroling that day, enjoying the fresh scent of dew and rain, and being interrupted by howls and barks somewhere near the borders. He rolled his eye, changed his direction, and limped that way.
The cream-colored stranger came into view shortly, standing rather awkwardly by his lonesome with the most perplexed of expressions on his face. Jefferson had to stifle a light chuckle at the sheer amusement of his disturbed presence. "Hi," he muttered rather simply, rolling his shoulders. How strange, this mood he was in today. It was a nice change, like the rain had washed away his miseries... nah, that was too sappy. Good moods came and went, he supposed. "Something you need?" His green eye affixed on the cream-colored male, for a moment watching the scarf around his neck blow in the breeze. He seemed harmless, anyway, and Jefferson hoped he wouldn't get the same fearful reaction he usually did when finding creatures lurking the borders. So he had some scars... so what? He was in a good mood today. Shouldn't be afraid of that.
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[html] Sorry for the holdup.
He waited with eyes flickering like pale blue flames into different areas of the forest—through one parting of tall conifer trees and into a grove of others, expecting to see someone there. He was impatient to hear at least some word of Iskata's condition from a member of Phoenix Valley, if he couldn't see her. And he wished someone would come soon. He would be very irritated if no one showed and he'd wasted his time. The irony was, there was nothing else he needed to do. So why was he so anxious?
At last, the almost inaudible noise of crumpling snow stirred him to complete alertness. Out of habit, his tail lowered for convenient submission, its pale tip brushing the snow behind him. He saw the male soon enough, noticing immediately how he limped and feeling a tinge of pity. Kansas wondered if the faulty leg was a permanent injury; he couldn't imagine that kind of misfortune.
To accompany the limp, this man had a host of scars on his face, but his one green eye was bright. Somehow, that made Kansas feel a lot more comfortable. The other voiced a simple greeting, and Kansas nodded rather jerkily in return. "Hello." The Sadira boy's own voice was quiet but gravelly; he cleared his throat with a soft half-cough. "My name is Kansas Sadira. I came looking for Iskata, or... someone who can tell me how she's doing." Afterward he paused, curious about how this tawny wolf would answer.
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Jefferson watched him somewhat cautiously, especially at the mentioning of Iskata's name. He frowned disapprovingly, always a bit on edge about the ex-Matriarch whom he had replaced. He was well aware that what had happened to her was not simply just an accident, just as aware as she was about it. He knew the possibility that someone out there was still crawling around, some kind of miscreant hunting for his next victim. Jefferson hadn't the slightest idea of whom it was, but he kept his options open. His eye remained affixed on the cream-colored stranger, ears perking somewhat--he was another Sadira, meaning that they were related somewhere along the line. Of course, this wasn't all too important to Jefferson somehow, and the male scoffed and decided to leave that unsaid for now.
"She's surviving," he said almost bitterly, as if he himself was still tender from past scars that hadn't even touched his skin. The Patriarch straightened his shoulders a little and stood a little taller, raising a brow. "Blind as a bat and not happy about it. Abandoned her kid and now she mopes around a lot. Could be worse, but she's surviving." He breathed in and exhaled slowly. "I'm Jefferson. I took her place."
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He had never been so concerned for his mother's well-being before. When she departed Storm to look for Firefly, he'd been too young to truly understand the possibility that she might never return. All he'd known was that she was not around; he and his other siblings were led to believe she'd be back before they knew it. This... was much different. He knew Iskata would survive her injuries, but they worried him more than had her disappearance during his childhood.
Kansas watched the man quietly as he spoke, slowly reclining upon his haunches. He noticed the tartness to the other's voice; apparently, he resented what had happened to Iskata as well. This put Kansas a bit more at ease, both because it meant there was at least one individual close at hand to care for her and because it somehow made him feel more connected to the Patriarch. "All right," he said with a small nod and a long, slow sigh. "...Thank you." He wondered if her eye injury would ever heal. How terrible it would be for her to be completely blind. "I don't want to... interrogate you, but what... what do you know about what happened to her?" He only knew bits and pieces. Perhaps Jefferson knew about the same, but Kansas couldn't leave without asking—especially if he wasn't able see her today.
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Jefferson decided this stranger was someone at least relatively trustworthy; he did look completely harmless, and Jefferson felt a tinge of relief that he didn't have to spark up his temper or anything without proper reason. Honestly, he was growing sick of the idiots and assholes that had been straying past lately. He also took note of the name the stranger had introduced himself by and realized that he could have been closely related to Iskata, at such realization he decided to relax a little. "You're her son," he guessed. He was too young to be anything else. They were cousins, he thought. He couldn't really remember.
It was at this point he remembered Kansas's other question. He frowned and stared his green eye elsewhere, shrugging. "She was attacked by a bear. I've been told there's more to it, but... that's all I know of it. She's blind and scarred up, but she's still alive. That's all that matters."
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JESUS CRAP long wait again. I apologize. *dies*
He was glad this male wasn't one of those who prided himself in being overly territorial. If Jefferson had exhibited any aggression, Kansas' anxiety would obviously have compounded tenfold. And he didn't want to feel any worse today. Of course, he knew he wasn't posing any immediate threat, but the man still could have driven him out right away. Kansas was somehow very grateful to him for that.
The other's face lit with recognition, and his simply-stated comment warranted a nod from the cream boy. He felt stupid for not introducing himself as Iskata's son already; perhaps his deep interest in her health had seemed odd until now. Kansas listened somberly to his answer, smiling sadly as Jefferson spoke. His eyes traveled across the scarred face as he spoke of Iskata's own blindness and scarring, noting the strange parallels. He looked quickly away, hoping Jefferson hadn't noticed his stare. "Thank you. Sir. I'd find her myself, but I don't want to disturb her. I don't... have the time right now to visit with her for as long as I'd like." How awful that sounded—no time for his own mother. To escape his guilt, he opted to change the subject, his gaze returning harmlessly to the tawny male's face. "Have you lived here long?"
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He noticed the young man's stare, even if the alert went unmentioned. The hybrid watched and listened to Kansas carefully as he spoke, noting the boy's obvious hesitations and a slight, possible social anxiety the cyclops picked upon, but knew better than to accuse upon first impression. Instead, the boy's words made the one-eyed brute want to argue, as if his intentions could be regretful. That feeling of dread and guilt in his gut was connected to Iskata somehow, Jefferson knew it--he just couldn't pinpoint how or why, but he knew something was going to happen. The Patriarch couldn't tempt or deflect fate. He could only stand by as an unwilling audience member, especially with one as stubborn as Iskata for a target.
"Long enough. Last autumn." he mentioned quietly, eye meandering elsewhere. He could see a piece of Iskata within her son, but the two seemed miles apart from first impressions. He knew the ex-Matriarch well; Kansas was a distant cousin in contrast. He and Kansas were related, shared some blood somewhere, but Jefferson didn't want the cream-hued boy considering him some sort of uncle or something to that extent. For some reason, the brute found it a better choice to let that concept be. "Got these scars beforehand, if that's what you're wondering." The cyclops didn't much appreciate staring.
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Ha, I wrote "Jefferson wolf," dumbtard... *edits*
As their time together was lengthening, Kansas was beginning to feel a bit more less at ease. They'd gotten past the "trespassing" issue (or, the boy had, in his own nervous mind). But there was something about Jefferson that Kansas perceived as coldness. Resentment? That didn't seem right, but he didn't know. Perhaps the man and his mother were close, and his being Iskata's son was awkward somehow.
Kansas let his sky gaze flicker to his paws, where his eyes traced the contours of his toes, his dark claws. Last autumn. So it had been awhile. Long enough for him to have become close with Iskata. Kansas never seemed to know anything about his family -- not about his mother, his father, his own twin. There were some things he still felt Savina kept from him. Perhaps he had that sort of aura that repelled others away from sharing secrets with him. When the Phoenix Valley wolf mentioned his scars, Kansas looked quickly at him, his brow furrowed slightly. He had noticed his stare. "Oh, I --" Goddamn it. "No, I wasn't. I just wondered. You... seemed like you knew the place well, that's all."
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The Patriarch offered a slight chuckle at the boy's reply. A thought crossed the cyclops's mind; he wondered if he'd ever been naive in such a fashion, innocent. It was difficult enough to imagine himself a child or anything other than a stone-faced, one-eyed idiot covered in gashes and demons. The thought itself was rather amusing, thinking that he'd been a child once. He'd been happy, supposedly. The late Laruku had been his brother, and he'd had siblings once (although they'd all disappeared one way or another). He was his mother's firstborn and the only sibling he knew of personally was Haku, Colibri's last born. Strange, how he and Haku had not associated since their first peaceful meeting... he supposed there had just been no calling for such.
It occurred to him that he'd been daydreaming a few seconds too long, and quickly shrugged his shoulders to bring himself back to earth. "I have to know the place well. I'm the leader here." He smirked.
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Do you wanna wrap up soon? Oh, and by the way, you write very beautifully. 
Kansas felt himself morphing into an adult more suddenly than he liked. Perhaps he'd spent his teenage years too lost in his childishness, and his mistake with Lucifer and Naniko had propelled him forward so quickly. "Growing up" didn't bother him too terribly, but there did seem to be a lot for him to have to deal with all at once. That was what was... disappointing. He had a mate, and probably children soon, so his days of relative carelessness were now long over. He would have liked to think with the mind of an innocent child, but that had become far from possible.
Kansas honestly associated scars with trouble. He didn't know why this was -- perhaps his books had put the idea in his head. Scarred faces belonged to criminals, didn't they? He was thus caught off guard when Jefferson called himself the leader of Phoenix Valley. The bright blue eyes widened just slightly, but he otherwise kept his suprise to himself. "Well... of course you would, then." Despite his undecided opinion of the man, Kansas gave a smile. A few seconds of silence passed. "I don't like to ask this," he said softly, with seriousness, chewing his lip. "But... Would you... mind telling my mother I was here?"
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Thanks, hun. That means a lot to me. Your writing is very well done as well. ^^ And sure, why don't you finish it up in your next post? I'll archive it after.
Jefferson detected a slight change in demeanor of the cream-colored boy in reaction to his words. The one-eyed male watched him carefully and watched his reaction for insight onto his unspoken thoughts; the boy's blue eyes scanned over his scarred and torn body once more, whether or not he had intended to, and he was well aware that Kansas was still highly on edge with the Patriarch's presence, even if the hybrid had not threatened him in the least. The smile on the boy's face stood as sheer irony against the nervous biting of his lip; Jefferson anticipated his decision to hasten away off his territory before the male even began to mention the thought.
Regardless, the cyclops nodded his head gently and watched. "I'll let her know. I'm sure she'll be happy to know you at least stopped by." He wished that Iskata might have been more grateful, might have been more willing to see her boy--but he knew otherwise, after she'd abandoned Zana so quickly. Somehow, one way or another, he felt as if he was doing something wrong... but he couldn't identify just what it was. "If you're leaving, well... you're Iskata's boy." And I like you, he could have added. Green eye directly looked him in the eye, speaking in modest seriousness. "If you're ever in a fix, come back and find me. I'll do what I can."
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Aw, ditto.
He couldn't imagine the sorts of wimpy vibes he was putting off at the moment. It was shameful -- retreating after perhaps a half an hour or less of mild conversation. He wished he could have presented himself differently, been more friendly with a more favorable attitude. Too late now.
Though Kansas wasn't surprised that Jefferson said he would oblige, he had the strong feeling that the man actually would relay his message. "Thank you. Very much." Each of his words seemed genuine, and Kansas realized that, though strange and reserved, Jefferson was a likeable, admirable individual. Those words almost made Kansas want to stay longer and get to know the mysterious leader of Phoenix Valley. "Oh... I will." He grinned again, just a bit, but it was real. "It was good talking to you... I'll see you around?" With a gentle nod, the boy turned and left, aware that he would be thinking about this encouter for a long while.
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