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The Phoenix Valley gimpster had spent far too much time in his own head as of late, pondering what was and what shouldn't have been after the unfortunate consistency of recent events. Too much was on his mind, inevitably; it was times like these that he was made strangely nostalgic for unrecognizable things, but the Patriarch oddly found himself missing Iskata's presence and clairvoyance over himself. He missed lounging around and managing to escape everyday life by hiding his starved, malnourished body in the hay of the barn animals and dozing the hours away until the once Matriarch would come across him and send him away. Jefferson missed the lack of responsibility, the ease of day and night when he had once been a loner. He could not turn back now, though--he had too much to live for in Phoenix Valley and too many depending on him. His own kids were hunting him down, his subleader was getting into trouble, the neighboring clan was brooding against his, Addison was growing too fast, and something about Geneva still perplexed him beyond reason... to the point that he couldn't bear to stop trying to figure out what it was.
Something called him away from the packlands in the end. Perhaps it was the need to get away--it had been months since he'd been stirred away from home after all the business and problems the pack had been having. There were a few faces he wished to see; recent nostalgia had reminded the hybrid of many months past, when he had stumbled across Cercelee for the first time. She had given him comfort, somehow; resembling his grandmother was one thing, but she was a kind soul. Haku was somewhere in those lands as well, doing whatever it was he did, as Jefferson was hardly aware of the many horrible things that his younger half-sibling had done in the past.
Jefferson might have called their unexpected rendezvous an excuse for pack negotiations or something similar, but the truth was, the cyclops needed someone--anyone--who was of neutral party with whom he could simply be himself, though even that wasn't reliable. He'd been a shaking, horrible wreck for days: a slower pace, a wide-eyed, distant gaze, a distracted mind.
And he walked along the Dahlia borders as such, hardly even knowing he was there.
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Cercelee had woken that morning to find Slay had slipped out while his family slept, and she smirked at his absence and his avoidance of duties this morning. Yet there was no ill feelings, for Cercelee was surely guilty of the same crime in the past and would certainly commit it in the future. And what’s more, Slay had been, since the arrival of the pups, more mindful of his duties. She certainly couldn’t complain about her mate, and so happily enough she fed the children their breakfast and unleashed them upon the Dahlian lands, to do whatever it was young pups did.
There were no pressing matters this morning, or if there were Cercelee had not yet been informed, but one was likely to arise at any moment. Cercelee pushed this truth to the back of her weary mind as she made her way away from the church that she called home. The children exhausted her, the pack exhausted her, and even Slay, at times, exhausted her (in a good way). It had been ages since she had slipped out for a day to herself and it was her intention as she made her way to the borders.
Yet, when she came to the borders she was greeted with a fresh scent. Phoenix Valley, and a familiar male at that. Knowing she could leave this business to Cwmfen, but dreading Haku would find him first, she turned and followed the trail only briefly before she was greeted with the site of the one eyed creature. “Jefferson, what a surprise. How are you?” Her voice was warm and genuine as she waited for the male to turn and face her. It had been a while since they saw each other last, only briefly at the short meeting of the pack leaders, but she remembered their pleasant visit before. Indeed she had not been expecting him, but at least the sight of him was welcome as the sight of DaVinci would had only worn her weary self out even more.
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A terrible, distraught aura possessed him, despite the cheerfulness that Cercelee arrived with. Slight relief passed through his mind, glad to see her appearance rather than that of Haku or any other Dahlia packmate he couldn't have cared to see. She was her typical self, the way he always remembered her to be: pleasant and charming, even in the face of the grim darkness that her untimely visitor was clouded in. Although Jefferson could not remember Ceres clearly, Cercelee was still the unknowing reminder of his grandmother. Perhaps that had why he had sought her out: Ceres had been a comfort in a similar fashion.
"Cercelee," he said, voice monotone and containing a dull, gruffness that stressed, tired emotions could only admit. Suddenly fatigued in ways he hadn't known himself to be, the cyclops collapsed onto his haunches, head diving down to stare at the soil as if he'd struck in the chest and left breathless and exhausted. The Patriarch swallowed a lump in his throat, grimaced, and returned his weary gaze to her once again. "Chaotic," he finally answered, clicking his teeth shut, biting at the air with his words as if it was attacking him, too. "Awful," he added, shaking his head. Enough of that sappy horseshit. "Tell me Dahlia has been better." The statement was almost pleading: he'd hate to see the woman that resembled his grandmother so much to be in a pain that was his equal.
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The gruff male, never one to be overly cheerful in her short encounters with him, seemed even more forlorn than normal. His words, his posture, his facial expression, everything reeked of weariness, of dissatisfaction. Cercelee didn’t know the specifics, but she didn’t have to in order to understand the sentiment. Leading a pack wore one down, all she had to do was dig out the memory of Laruku to know that to be true. Did Jefferson ever compare himself to the male? Cercelee was determined not to, and so the smile and strength she donned everyday was pulled from somewhere, somehow, though Cercelee couldn’t quite explain it.
Sorrowfully she shook her head, wishing she had brighter news to tell him but unwilling to lie to the male. “Not much.” Truthfully she didn’t know the circumstances of Phoenix Valley and so who was worse off than who it was hard to say, but awful and chaotic were words that she thought could adequately describe Dahlia de Mai as well. “Is there anything I can help you with?” Had he come for some purpose or had he just come? Either way Cercelee was happy to do what she could, even if it only meant lending an ear.
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It was possible that "not much" happening in Dahlia was a discouragement; Jefferson could have begged for "not much" to be happening in Phoenix Valley as it had been before. Instead, after a long period of "not much", "all too much" had occurred at once, swept him off his feet, and thrown him into a ditch. He had begun to recognize occurrences in Phoenix Valley as happening in patterns: a great, long period of peace, and then something so traumatic that always had a greater personal effect on him than on anyone else in the pack. First, it had been Iskata's attack and his promotion to leader. A couple months' peace. Then, Deuce had left and he was left in charge of the pack. A month of peace. Iskata died, he wept. A few months of peace. Zana's disappearance, Gabriel's attack, his arguments with Geneva, and finally, the appearance of his three children. Now it was his downtime: now was his time to breathe and recover, to prepare himself for the next painful blossoming that was bound to occur. He was in his right mind: he knew it would have something to do with Inferni.
"Inferni and Phoenix Valley are not getting along," he muttered grimly. "Our subleaders are in love, but they're both idiots about it... I had to fight off Gabriel. He wants to kill DaVinci." Jefferson didn't even know if Cercelee knew any of the names he was bringing up, but somehow he knew she would follow one way or another. His words were partially a stressed rant, but the distraught look in his single green eye spoke otherwise: it was a quiet, subtle plead for help. "If you know anything..." he trailed off. He wasn't one to ask for help, but... "If you hear anything, please. Let me know."
He straightened his shoulders and tried to assume a less pitiful stance. "I hoped getting away from Phoenix Valley would help me calm down, to be honest." Jefferson was more honest, more raw than usual. The walls that had been torn down by Geneva were terribly difficult to build back up in the face of someone who wanted to help him, and he had Geneva to blame for that. "I haven't seen my little brother in months, either." Not since they'd met, actually. Voice lifting slightly, his head swept from side to side. "Where is Haku? Has he been well?" It didn't cross his mind that Cercelee might've had no idea her subleader and the Phoenix Valley man were even related.
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Cercelee’s ears perked forward at the first word he spoke, it was like a button that triggered her attention. The response was just automatic now, for so long the Rosea had needed to be aware of the clan’s doings that when word passed through Dahlia she took note. The story Jefferson related though did not surprise her, but neither had she been expecting it. It was like DaVinci to cause mischief with the clan, and it was like Gabriel to seek out what he considered justice. A soft, sad scoff emitted from the white lady and she looked up at Jefferson with kindly eyes, but they had no answers in them. “So it seemed then both our sub-leaders have a bounty on their heads. Gabriel’s list is growing longer.” Cercelee wondered just what Jefferson’s tactic for dealing with DaVinci was. Part of her hope he was stronger than she, more loyal, that he did not willingly grant Gabriel permission to take the male’s life if the brute crossed Inferni lines of his own free will. Haku had no Dahlian protection, as far as Cercelee was concerned, if he instigated anything with the clan.
“I have no heard anything, but if I do I will let you know.” It was only right, Cercelee knew what it had been to stand against Inferni alone. And Jefferson seemed to be bearing himself to her, she couldn’t toss him aside.
The male before her was full of fresh information and Cercelee’s eyes widened at little at his next words. Jefferson and Haku shared blood? If they were brothers, that meant that Jefferson was yet another cousin of sorts. Perhaps she should have been aware before, for Jefferson probably knew of their relation, but family ties had never meant much. Mew and Ember were good friend, Haku a sub-leader, Iskata an antagonist, Laruku a guardian... but they weren’t family. Cercelee did not comment on her newly acquired knowledge, for she doubted it would change her feelings about Jefferson anyway, she still liked and admired him. Yet the questions lingered in the air.
“Was Colibri your mother?” The words fell out of her mouth, and she hadn’t really thought of Colibri in the past few months. Even Coli arriving, sharing the same name, hadn’t sparked any memories. Coli had never known her grandmother, Haku and Mew did not speak of her. Did Jefferson think of her, or had it been too long ago. Realizing that she had ignored the male’s question she bowed her head in apology, bringing the conversation back on track. “Haku... yes, he’s about. And well, or at least he hasn’t told me otherwise.” Cercelee wasn’t sure how much of Haku’s dirty laundry she should air to the world, the mess with Firefly, he lack of care for his children, his constant pushing for Dahlia to confront outsiders. Her words lied to Jefferson, but her eyes let him know that it was a touchy topic, one that she didn’t even fully understand herself.
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Jefferson knew Cercelee would not have the answers he sought, but the reassurance that her eyes would be open to danger and information was enough reassurance to ease the cyclops down onto his haunches and release a much-deserved sigh of relief. One way or another, she was well-educated in the ways of Inferni and understood his plight without the slightest anxiety. Even if the tension and conflict with Inferni continued, Jefferson felt a weight raise off his shoulders knowing that Dahlia de Mai was on his side, and knowing Cercelee, would lend their aid as soon as it was requested.
It became clear to him that the leader had little knowledge on Haku's closer family members as Cercelee gaped in surprise at the mention of her subleader's connection. Sooner or later, she would have had to find out, but the lenient fashion in which Jefferson reclined when the topic arose spoke wonders: he and Haku weren't close and ultimately had little to do with each others' lives, but as far as Jefferson could tell, his step-brother was the closest family he had available to him... well, other than the three mongrels out for the Patriarch's blood who called themselves his kids. He cringed at the mental reminder. "That is what I have been told," he said quietly, masking shame with indifference. "I've suffered some things that erased my memory. I go by the words of dead folk now, but it was Haku who recognized me by chance. He said Colibri is alive... but I have yet to meet her." Meet his mother. What a pitiful concept, that with his amnesia he would have to meet the creature that gave birth to him a second time.
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Poor sad Cercelee, she doesn’t know Laruku is dead. Nor does she know about Iskata. XD So maybe Jefferson wants to tell her?
To know only your past through the words of others, it was a terrible curse. Cercelee could recall nearly every day of her life, barring the first few months when her brain was too undeveloped to form permanent memories. Tuki and Lisi and Lyla were all clear images in her head she could recall at any time, and the hours they had spent together as a family. Adrastos too she could remember, even if she didn’t want to. The whole journey, from then to the very moment she stood before Jefferson, was imprinted. It was all of what made her, what had shaped her. Did Jefferson truly have no idea of what had molded him to be how he was? Of where he had come from? Of who he had come from?
“Colibri was very kind. She gave me a home when I had none, and for that I guess I will always be grateful.” Colibri had given her Dahlia de Mai, and though Cercelee hadn’t ask for it at the time, she realize was a gift it was now. Perhaps that had not been Colibri’s intention, but it was time to forgive the woman’s abandonment. “Mew lives here too. Your sister.” Though surely Haku had told Jefferson that much, still Cercelee imagined that if Tuki or Lisi were alive today she would want someone to tell her. Even tell her twice. Still it felt strange, to converse with Jefferson so. His ties came from the past, it was ancient history to Cercelee and one she wasn’t very well versed in. One she didn’t care to be.
His origins were from a world when the white goddess ruled over the sad, cursed pack over the mountains. The place that so many others seemed to have come from and ritually visit from time to time in their minds. Cercelee had no ties from that time, except Laruku. Except when the ghosts of that time reminded her she lived in another wolf's body. A queen she couldn't possibly measure up to. “Laruku… do you know him? He knew Colibri and your father probably. I haven’t seen him in a while, he might still be around though.” She hoped he was, because from time to time she thought about him, wished him well, or even imagined what kind of advice he might have given her if he still cared.
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Words of his mother somehow stirred a small, somewhat relieved smile to his face. True, he never knew the woman and the likelihood of finding her now was low, but Jefferson had a curiosity for his former family that wasn't satisfied by the emptiness of his memories nor by how much he tried not to care. She was kind: that was uplifting. Jefferson knew he had not been born the cynical bastard he'd become and that a tenderness lay within him that guided his actions. Perhaps it was something his mother had given him, though Haku had not spoken of her kindly at their first reunion. The differences between the two Dahlia leaders were becoming all the more apparent, and though he said nothing, Jefferson wondered how it was they managed to rule a pack together smoothly.
"If she returns, I hope she can recognize her old and scarred hell of a son." The smile cracked, but he released a long breath and nodded at her next words. "Haku did mention a Mew. I've heard pretty little about her, but at some point we'll cross paths. That's what seems to keep happening to me, anyway." Every other person he met was another relative he couldn't remember, and yet a majority of them continued to recognize an old and dead Maluki despite the gruesome scars that Jefferson adopted. He straightened, however, when she brought up Laruku.
"I grew up with him as a brother. A lot has happened since then." A moment's hesitation. "Laruku's dead, Cercelee. It's been a few months. He was the first to recognize me, even though he was blind and not doing too well. I'm not sure how it happened. I went looking for him again, but... well, word got around." He hated to be the one to inform her of bad news, but the cyclops perked his ears forward and turned an attentive eye on her. "How did you know him?"
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Would Colibri recognize her son? Cercelee imagined it would be hard not to, even if Jefferson was not the same wolf he had been before. Name and face might change, but there had to be something that caused a parent to remember and recognize a child, no matter what. “I think she would.” Though would she be overjoyed at the meeting? Cercelee didn’t know, she didn’t know their relationship or their history, and Jefferson didn’t either. Colibri had balked at the sight of Haku, she hoped it wouldn’t be a similar reaction to Jefferson. Either way, she said nothing more, because she couldn’t tell Jefferson anything useful, on Mew or Colibri.
Cercelee watched as the male straightened, and she swallowed hard. It was not hard to read the male’s body language, despite his lacking eye and scarred face, and though she braced herself, Cercleee was not ready for the words that came flying at her. The white lady wouldn’t have thought she would care, not that much, yet she felt as if her body had been run into by a train. So warm and friendly Jefferson was being to her, the Rosea couldn’t bare to look at him any longer, she couldn’t stand the support of another, it was easier to wallow in misery alone. Eyes downcast, it took her only a moment to get control of herself. Later that night she would crawl in bed besides Slay and weep, burying herself in his thick pelt, telling him only through sobs of what troubled her. For now she wore a mask, expertly so. She allowed her mask to be sad, sympathetic, but she would not show just how torn she really was.
Looking back up, she smiled sadly at the Phoenix Valley leader, despite being the bearer of bad news she was grateful to him. For months she had not known and now it was almost too late to be upset. She had lived this long without Laruku, without even knowing, what difference did it make really? Cercelee knew that when she wept later, it would be for their past, her childhood, not for their relationship as it had been recently. “Laruku took me into Clouded Tears when my father left me. I lived with him for a while.” Cercelee did not mention that Laruku had been the best father figure out of three that she had had, that he was both an example of the type of leader she wanted to be and also the type of leader she did not want to be. Without meaning to the grizzled male had taught his younger cousin many lessons, but Cercelee did not say this either. She only looked up sadly at her living cousin, hoping he could guess how much Laruku had meant to her. And like a blindfolded fool, Cercelee spoke and stepped off another cliff. “Does Iskata know about Laruku?”
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Some breath of confidence filled his lungs at her gratifying words. Jefferson hadn't the slightest idea as to what his mother was like both in manner and appearance; the only way the two would ever meet to the appropriate terms would be if she recognized him or if the two were intercepted by someone like Haku, whose recognition skills were oddly profound. However, judging by his brother's reaction to Colibri's name and sheer existence (as well as the past the two shared), it wasn't likely that Haku would have anything to do with his mother anymore. Whether or not Jefferson would ever meet Colibri was hard to say; the cyclops wasn't getting his hopes up, but he wore a slight simper at the Rosea's words and nodded.
His smile had faded altogether by the time the news of Laruku soaked in to Cercelee. Though the Patriarch had no knowledge of their relationship, her reaction spoke wonders. She was a firm and stolid creature, however, and did not allow too much emotion to break through, though the cyclops had his suspicions that some variation of mourning would come at a later time. He chose not to respond to her initial statement, though Jefferson was well aware that two creatures living together always brought some level of intimacy between them. For Cercelee, it appeared Laruku had been some sort of father figure. Strange, since the blind man had been rather somber and grim while the white-furred Rosea was gentle and welcoming. Naturally, Jefferson's tattered ears flicked backward at the mention of Iskata. How had Cercelee not known? Didn't she keep tabs on the workings of the other packs? His one-eyed stare wordlessly expressed this grisly curiosity. "Iskata died months ago, Cercelee," he said after a pause. "It was in January or February... I was her replacement." It had been the only reason he'd taken up a leadership role in the first place -- Iskata would never have accepted stepping down without proper substitution. Deuce had left him and the pack behind, and for a while Jefferson had been the only one keeping Phoenix Valley on its toes... and did so in Iskata's name. He straightened his back and thinned his eye. "How did you not know?"
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Eyes widened at the hybrid and the Rosea stood there, dumbly, blindsided. She had known that Iskata has stepped down after an accident, that Jefferson had taken the reigns and DaVinci had rose up as a leader as well, but in the past months she had not been keeping tabs on Phoenix Valley or any other pack as she should. She had spoken to Iskata in February, alive but blind, and Cercelee hadn’t thought much worse could happen to the old women. Now she was caught red handed so to speak, unmasked as an ineffectual or perhaps just lazy leader. Yet it was neither of those, only that life had been too hectic in Dahlia de Mai for her to concern herself too much with the outside world. It was a poor excuse and one hard to voice, the Rosea lowered her head a notch and smiled sadly at her cousin. “I’m sorry, I’ve missed much of other’s lives these past few months.”
Slowly she exhaled, letting again, as she did so often, the thoughts bombarded her. Almost without thinking she spoke, though as ever her tone was even and controlled, purposeful. “I have children now, not mine really. Their mother is a cousin of ours and she left them for me. Five of them.” Cercelee couldn’t dwell on Iskata, and she was sure that Jefferson having proper notice and time to mourn the founder of his pack had done so in his own fashion. “I’ve also lost a number of members, though some of them I banished. Firefly, DaVinci’s sister. I kicked her out. Have you ever made anyone leave Phoenix Valley Jefferson?” Cercelee tilted her head, eyes thoughtful at the male. They two had something in common, leadership, but Cercelee couldn’t say if any of the other leaders felt the stress of the job the way she did. She was curious to know.
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He knew the business involved with raising children. The Patriarch had only raised one child, but he'd done so without the slightest bit of paternal experience and was forced to go by common sense and the like in teaching Addison. For the most part he took pride in what she was becoming considering his lack of parental skills, but the other three children of his were clear examples of failed parenting or the lack thereof. Jefferson had not only ruined their lives and the life of their mother, but he hadn't been present in their younger days, either. They hadn't grown up knowing a father. The cyclops could only wonder how raising five children [that weren't even his] was like; the respect he held for Cercelee was only refreshed and renewed in his wondering.
He had been leader of Phoenix Valley for quite some time, but the idiot still felt like it had only been a few days. The pack had been a series of unfortunate events one right after another since the cyclops first arrived on its packlands; it was almost as if he was the unintentional catalyst for a thousand things he knew nothing about. Iskata's accident and later death, Deuce's stepping down, Geneva's arrival, even the unveiling of the three yearlings claiming to be his children. How many had he sent away? Barely any. "One or two," he recalled, searching his brain for a more exact number. He'd sent away a joiner that had rubbed him the wrong way once. He'd tried to run off DaVinci even before the silver hybrid had joined the pack. As for a few others, he'd tried, but someone had ended up intercepting. "I tried to ward off DaVinci at first. Maybe it's a family thing. Phoenix Valley usually keeps to itself, so I normally have no problems with troublemakers or strangers at the borders." He glanced quietly over his shoulder at the way he'd came. "That in mind, I should be getting back."
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Sorry for having this take so long! Closing it up now! This is pretty bad.
“Of course.” Cercelee bowed her head once more to the male. She did not mind that he sought to take leave now, despite having just informed the alabaster Rosea of the two deaths of their relatives. Cercelee understood the duties of leadership and Jefferson had wandered a long way just to end up on Dahlian borders and have a chat with one of his many cousins. Too often she found herself speaking the same words "I should be getting back..." "If ever you need help or to talk or anything I'm here Jefferson." Cercelee smiled once more before she turned away, her words were sincere but whether Jefferson ever took her up on the offer or not was up to him.
Leaving the one eyed male to see himself out, the mask she had worn for Jefferson came off. The further she got from Jefferson, the faster her steps became, as if she could outrun the information he had given her. Laruku was gone. The news of Iskata was sad, but it was not devastating. The women had never been much to Cer, but Laruku.... Laruku had once been the world to her, for a short time anyway. Her breathing became rapid and Cercelee welcomed the pain that grew in her lungs as her body struggled to keep up with the demand for air, running, running, running as fast as she could. So fast she was running that Cercelee was surprised when she dropped down at the front door of her own home, the heavy wooden church doors barring her way inside. Burying her face into her front legs, Cercelee was finally free to weep, further exhausting her body so that later when Slay finally found her she would be so drained that she wouldn't even be able to tell him what the trouble was.
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