[html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j40/k ... efinal.png);background-repeat: no-repeat; padding-bottom:140px; background-position: bottom center;">As if racked by terrible pain, Phoenix curled his body tighter into itself and whimpered in agony. Yet his torment was not physical. Quite the contrary; he couldn’t be healthier. The source of his misery was something more unusual; it was psychic in nature. Even though Phoenix had become quite adept in using his strange sixth sense, he still didn’t fully understand why he could read minds or how. Nor, apparently, was he still fully in control of it. Occasionally his perceptiveness flared and he lost control. At those times his mind began reaching out, searching for something to connect with, and no matter how hard he tried he could not real himself back in. Usually he had to concentrate to read someone else’s mind; right now he was putting as much focus into not connecting with anything.
Unfortunately, when this happened it was always a losing battle. He had woken up in the morning with the shock of memories not his own; he saw himself towering over his children through their eyes, he felt his mate’s resentments and fears. He even felt the thrill of flight from some kind of bird taking off from the tree outside his den. He’d gotten out of there as quickly as he could, heading north and taking the long route out of Storm to avoid violating any of his pack mates’ minds. Whimpering and staggering all the way, he finally reached his destination, an area of the valley where few wolves bothered to tread. Now that he was here he could only hope that no one else ventured within range until the maelstrom in his head died down. He felt so helpless. | [/html]
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Sorry if this is a little chaotic.
Grey clouds engulfed the sky, and the bright white snow was dimmed by the sun's neglect. Deathly trees stood frozen, ever-reaching for the sky in desperation, pining for their days of life long lost. It was through this wasteland that the singular golden form of the warrior-wolf, Skoll, walked, gray in mood. Memories plagued him when he was alone, as they always did. He had always done his best to do what he believed was right, but fate had seen fit to show him things that a wolf should never see, to face him with decisions which no wolf should ever have need to make. Though he had worked hard to have a clear conscience, peace of mind was not a gift he was to be given, it seemed.
Some alien compulsion struck him, but the thoughts it triggered were anything but new. Memories of the Four Pack War returned to him, quick and terrible as always, flashes of the past glimpsed through the blackness of each blink, dark cycles of thought ever-turning in his brain as he made his way ploddingly through the shadowed-snow. He remembered the look in Art's eyes when they finally rescued him, the naked fear, the desperation, the animal behind the intelligence that had once lit his eyes. The quick progression from youthful innocence to desperate killer, all in the span of a few days. When he had finally regained his composure, he was a broken and re-glued thing, hard and jagged, a transformation for which the teacher could never forgive himself.
~Standing in a pool of blood, looking up, he saw a wolf's head crushed by the mace-end of JohnsonAv, Sirius's pole-weapon, covered on the far end with cement. Looking to his right, Xander whiping his blade off on the pelt of his kill even as the final vestige of warmth was leaving the fallen wolf's body. Art sitting on top of his adversary, knives flashing in and out of that creature's flesh, over and over...~
~Earlier, before everything went so wrong, relaxed and leaning against a tree. His eyes fell on a coppery female, the red-gold of her hair beautiful, but unapproachable beside the cold glint in her eyes. Her spear was at her back, but there it stayed. Her pose was relaxed, and he altered his to match, as she sized him up with her two cerulean eyes.
"So, you're the one they call Skoll. You're the sergeant for the monster wolf's forces?" He smiled slightly at her statement, before letting it die on his lips, and nodding solemnly. A wide grin met him before she released an animated laugh, which didn't match her original expression at all. "No need to take yourself so seriously. They're going to have one skirmish, maybe two, before they lose their taste for battle. It isn't like any of us who know what we're doing are going to die. Least of all, Galdra, spear-maiden."
"Is that so?" he looked her over suspiciously, before emitting a chuckle of his own. "I suppose not. Sirius will expect me to fight, but most of these 'bluebloods' are a little more strategic, they're out of the fight if they lose their hired experts. What's your reason for signing up?"
"It's what I do," she said, something strange and mischievous, perhaps even dangerous, lurking behind her blue eyes. "What about you?"
"The same," he replied.
~Nights of passion and fire, the cold of steel left behind in the pack encampments, the darkness concealing them as the royal sons and Sirius planned the downfall of one another. Galdra...you're the single best creature on this earth.
~"NO!" He was on the battlefield...it was Galdra's voice. Cold steel parted skin, the two and a half year-old male spun away from the driving point of the spear.
"Galdra!?" She said that we wouldn't have to fight each other...
"You'll not have the life of my student!" She barked, cool blue eyes possessed of feral rage, the spear-maiden stood over the fallen form of her student, his opponent.
"Galdra..."her spear point drove forward again.
Intense movement...details forgotten...cracked spear, blood of both, spattered together on the ground, right next to the fallen heap of the red-gold wolfess who had shared her body with him.
"Galdra..."
Back to the present..."I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"...Phoenix's voice?
"What in blazes?" One clawed hand rose to his temple as the compulsion left him, and Phoenix's mind snapped back out of his own.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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[html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j40/k ... efinal.png);background-repeat: no-repeat; padding-bottom:140px; background-position: bottom center;">It was like a millions of creatures were screaming in his head. He could sense life everywhere, feel their primitive little compulsions, even though winter slumber had settled over the lands. This was an even greater ordeal in the summer, when life abounded everywhere. The ground pulsated with insects, arachnids, earthworms, all manner of small creates. Birds, whose songs were usually taken for granted as background ambience to the normal listener, were impossible to ignore. Hunters terrified the hunted. Parents nurtured their young. He’d even felt two squirrels mate the last time—that had been agonizingly intense, though thankfully short.
Though that had been nothing compared to the memories of another wolf flashing in his head right now. At first it was just another voice lost in the murmur of the mob, but as Skoll grew closer his sentience and memories become predominant in Phoenix’s head. “No…” he tried to scream aloud, though it didn’t amount to more than a distracted mumble, more groan than word. He saw things, heard things, felt things that he was never meant to experience. The horror of being forced to violate his friend’s deepest secrets was compounded by the terror of the memories themselves.
In those few moments he had learned more about Skoll than he had from hours of conversation; and, paradoxically, he also learned why Skoll 's past was arcanum. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! he began to shout in his head, both trying to drown the memories out with his own thoughts and beg Skoll for forgiveness. Suddenly all was quiet. His mind was back in his own head. Somehow the trauma of connecting unexpectedly with another wolf had been what it took to shock his telepathy back into submission. Though finally he found peace, Phoenix continued to lie here, whimpering. | [/html]
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The alpha of Storm had spoken of his telepathy before, but Skoll had never thought much of it. Strange, unnatural abilities didn't seem that uncommon anymore, what with himself seeing spirits, and having met the extremely sensitive Graelthrim. With this relaxed view of seers and the like, he had never given much thought to Phoenix's ability, until now. That compulsion hadn't seemed malevolent, but there hadn't seemed to be any opportunity to resist it, either. It had taken the subject of his dwelling and run with it, and he could only assume that Phoenix had seen everything that he had seen...though for Phoenix it would be the first time.
He got his bearings again, and walked a short ways further, before coming upon the huddled form of his friend. Kneeling down, he studied him for a minute. This 'gift' of his seemed more like a curse to him...was this what he had in mind when he mentioned detecting lies? Curled up in a ball, whimpering alone to himself in obvious pain, he looked anything but savvy, but Skoll knew that he was simply seeing a moment of weakness. Every wolf--even alphas--had them, alphas just usually had them alone. Given that he had probably collapsed some time ago, it was Skoll's fault for walking in on him, seemingly. If he were in control, the bronze wolf did not expect he would find him in this state. Because of these factors, his anger was stayed, it had not been an intentional invasion.
Still, it would probably be best for me to make my way away from here, before he unearths something worse. There were many horrors, even in the Four Pack War, that still remained locked in his mind, and it was no doubt unhealthy for Phoenix to be exposed to any more. Phrexus, SteelRose, Yvret One-Eye...and that was from just one conflict. If he found the War of Shadows, well...Skoll did not want to think of what that might do to his friend's psyche. Even he, with all of his experience and hard edges, still had trouble getting to sleep at night.
"Are you alright, Phoenix? Do you need help? I can go get someone if you like." Sure he wasn't technically a Storm member, but he had enough friends within its boundaries that he could intrude long enough to bring someone who could take him back to his den. He had never seen Phoenix in the depths of one of these mind storms before, and he wasn't sure how long or how ferocious it would burn in his brain before it let up. For all he knew, it had ceased already.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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[html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j40/k ... efinal.png);background-repeat: no-repeat; padding-bottom:140px; background-position: bottom center;">It seemed an odd trade-off, when Phoenix looked back on his tally of telepathic experiences. He’d never asked for anything like this, and if given the choice he most likely would have declined it. He’d thought he was a freak, an abomination at first. Eventually when he came to understand what he could do he figured he should use his telepathy to help others to validate his existence. And he had. He’d given a blind wolf a chance to see, told a female that she was pregnant when it was normally too early for even her to tell, helped two wolves master shifting, even helped Iskata regain her memories. That was perhaps the most rewarding experience, since she had become his mate and given him children. Without his telepathy he probably never would have had Ember, Icarus, Kansas and Firefly.
But he had also accidentally raped the minds of two wolves now, pried memories from them without warning. He’d scared a small child that he had been trying to help. Despite all he had tried to do, the fact was that he was a monster and nothing would ever change that.
Phoenix didn’t move. He stayed there, trembling, even though he knew Skoll had closed the distance between them and towered above them. He half expected the bronze wolf to exact retribution on him, since he knew he deserved it. Any respect he had gained in the elder wolf’s eyes must have been washed away; he felt just like he had the day they’d met, and he’d gotten himself cut up in the pack hunt. For that reason, he couldn’t bring himself to look his friend in the eye, at least not until Skoll asked him a question. Surprised by Skoll’s concern instead of anger, Phoenix finally opened his eyes and looked up at him. “No…” he said as he slowly uncurled himself and sat up. “No thank you. I… think it’s over, at least for now. I’m so sorry, Skoll. I… I lost control. I didn’t mean t’go inside your head.” His whole posture drooped in humiliation, his head turned earthward. This was not supposed to be how an alpha of a pack acted. | [/html]
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The smaller male frowned down at the sitting figure, Storm's alpha, who looked so broken down here in the dreary gloom of Ames de le Mort. His eyes grew stern, and he rose from his knee to his full height. His amber eyes looked down on the bleak figure of Phoenix, a father, an alpha, a psychic, a child of Bleeding Souls, though he knew the brown wolf had been born elsewhere.
"Get up, straighten your shoulders. You're an alpha of Storm, act like it." He scrutinized the ragged creature, wondering what kind of torment he had undergone. He must have seen some killing, but he seemed physically tired. Still, image meant a lot for a leader, and if the leaders of Inferni and Jaded Shadows thought they could push him around, he would need to do something to change their minds. "I killed a dozen wolves to protect that border, so I expect to see a little more effort on your part to keep yourself on your feet. After all, what if you didn't know me? A wolf with a face like mine, and you're going to show me your weak side?"
Giving Phoenix some room to stand, he looked him over, letting the harshness in his amber eyes subside. The younger wolf was obviously in great pain over this, but there was nothing to be done. He was a father, he was an alpha, he had to work through it. His father had told him that it was the alpha's job to be strong for the pack. He was never going to use that lesson, but Phoenix would need it, he felt certain. A strong face for the strong faces of the other alphas...especially the Inferni leader and his minion.
"Look, those memories aren't anything new to me, as long as you can cope with what you saw, we're fine. I mean, you saw me lop Urbald's leg off, so violence isn't new to you, and we didn't see very much of it, anyway. As far as the other things you saw, you've..." He became flustered, and he gritted his teeth, biting back his words until he knew what he wanted to say, and then forged through the awkwardness of the situation. "You have kids, that's nothing new to you." That's all he could really think of to say to the situation. He didn't even remember the details, so it wasn't that terribly embarrassing, mostly he just remembered being happy, and the shattering of that happiness not three weeks later.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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[html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j40/k ... efinal.png);background-repeat: no-repeat; padding-bottom:140px; background-position: bottom center;">Somewhat pressed for time, so this’ll have to be short.
How strong was he, anyway? Even Phoenix did not know. All he knew was that he had survived everything thrown to him so far, and he had gotten through even tougher experiences than this. Still, it was hard to keep things in perspective while he was in the midst of humiliation. He never tried to show weakness before strangers, but this was Skoll in front of him—one of his most trusted allies. Though right now he wondered if Skoll thought the same way of him. It seemed like all he ended up doing was failing his friend or even hurting him. When Skoll scolded him about his composure, Phoenix looked up at him incredulously, but instantly stood up a bit straighter.
The telepath felt instantly grateful for his friend’s forgiveness, despite the horrible intrusion on his privacy. He had practically raped Skoll’s mind, and yet the bronze wolf seemed more concerned about him than himself. Phoenix had thought they’d been through a lot together, hunting, training, even fighting off a pair of intruders who had come seeking Skoll’s life. Now, though, he saw that these were mere trivial incidences in Skoll’s long career as a warrior. It didn’t disturb him, but it was not anything he wanted to see again. Phoenix wished he could scrub away the foreign memories he did have. “I won’t… tell anyone ‘bout what I saw,” he promised, still speaking rather meekly. “About Art…th’wars… Galdra…” He didn’t mean to mention the last name; he just blurted it out by mistake. | [/html]
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It's all good man. I'll keep on writing longish just cause I've got mad-inspiration. As long as you keep on giving me stuff to reply to, we're good to go.
Skoll's eyes widened fractionally at what Phoenix said next. He had assumed, too soon, that Phoenix's telepathy had seen what images he had seen, nothing more. It would appear that with those flashes of old events came knowledge surrounding them, and relevant names, as well. He felt the urge to step away, but did not. He felt the urge to look away, but did not. So his friend had found out some ancient history, it wasn't any cause to act any differently. Sure, he had regrets, but he had survived them up to now. It wouldn't be any different here.
"So, that trick of yours reads into things, more than just the shallow images, eh? Well, I guess you really won't have much to worry about if someone tries lying to you." He paused for a few moments, thoughts racing, though now in private. "It's probably best that you don't. People like me aren't well understood here, and those who are willing to let Inferni run their lives will use whatever scraps they can get their hands on against me, as we've already seen." Was that the end of it, then? Were they going to never speak of it again, forget this had ever happened?
"Art..." he sighed, unsure of why he was going on. "Art was my responsibility, his fate was my fault. His future in his pack was an unhappy one, so I tried to take him away from it. He was appointed to be the next pack hunter, a position for which he had no affection, nor any particular talent. He couldn't back out of it, though, without facing the scorn of his pack-mates. He had been enthralled by my stories, and wanted to experience adventures of his own a hundredfold more than becoming an underappreciated hunter of a well-fed pack. He asked if he could join me, learn my trade, and I said yes." While there was remorse in his voice, there was anger and rue in his eyes, which had wandered about as he spoke. "I'd never fought in a war before then, I thought I would be able to watch after him, but in the chaos... he paused, a deep and old anger rekindled in his heart by his thoughts, I could not." His eyes rose back up to Phoenix.
"Galdra was a different story, altogether. From what you saw, you know that she meant a great deal to me, despite our short time together. I thought that she felt the same way for me, but..." the flame of his anger guttered out, leaving him looking tired, almost as much as Phoenix. "When it came to choosing between one of her students and I, she would have sooner taken my life. And when it came to saving my own life or sparing hers, I would have sooner kept my own." He hadn't even thought in those last few moments of her life. There had been a brief flare of confusion and anger, as well as a touch of sadness that she had been wrong about the 'experts' having to fight one another. In the end, though, his instincts had moved him before his thoughts could--as was the nature of all fighting--and she had died, and he had lived.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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[html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j40/k ... efinal.png);background-repeat: no-repeat; padding-bottom:140px; background-position: bottom center;">Phoenix didn’t speak again until he was surer Skoll was done, though he nodded his head to concede that he knew more details than his friend originally thought he did. He hated having memories in his head that were not his own. The ones that he had taken from his children weren’t so bad, but every other adult whose minds he had invaded left him haunted. Nirupama Hale had been the first, the traumatic event of his first incident with telepathy. He’d shared dreams with Piper, caught glimpses of her childhood. Thankfully nothing embarrassing had come to light but he’d still felt ashamed of himself afterward. He’d seen many intimate moments while mending Iskata’s memories, but now that they were mates it didn’t seem so bad. In fact he loved knowing so much about her life before him. The visions he’d gained from Skoll had been the most horrific yet. He just knew that they would keep him up for many nights to come.
Phoenix had always believed his love affair with Iskata had been complicated, but at least she had not tried to kill him and their story would not likely end in such a tragedy. Phoenix missed his mate right then and there, feeling the desire to cuddle up against her and bury his nose in her fur. She had become his source of strength ever since he’d become alpha, her love the strut keeping him from collapsing under pressure. “Is that why I never seen you with a female?” he inquired, tentatively. Perhaps it was not his place to ask but he chose to look into the lacuna of Skoll’s mental armor while it was still open before him. Besides, even though Skoll was rough around the edges Phoenix knew he was still a good wolf underneath. | [/html]
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Skoll was taken aback at first by Phoenix's inquiry, but bit back any sort of knee-jerk response. He had to think about that, he had been here for three years, and he had not actually gone after the fairer sex at all in that time. After a few more moments of consideration, he nodded silently.
"Yes, I think that is why." How stupid. He had let that one event damn him to being alone for the better part of his life. He was so old, now, he was already a little slower than he had been a year ago; supposing that he stayed with his profession, which he didn't really have a choice about, it wouldn't be forever before his age caught up with his skill and he fell. He had known real happiness for a few weeks, and known some contentment in dedicating himself to protecting Storm. Now that he had neither, he didn't know what was left to him. He liked being his own master, that much was true, but he had no real purpose.
"I tried a few times. There was a woman in Storm back before you arrived, but she vanished before I said anything. There was another that I was attracted to, but I let my job side-track me. I thought it was for the best, a time afterward. After all, when it comes down to it, I am a warrior before a lover, anyway. Any time the two conflict, I go with the one that I've known the longest." He didn't know what was to be done for it. It wasn't likely that he'd be all that appealing to women anymore, anyway. Galdra had seen past his scars, maybe even appreciated them, but most females would see him as a ragged vagabond, to be avoided more than anything. His age didn't help matters, no more than would the rumors that Gabriel and his follower would spread.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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[html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j40/k ... efinal.png);background-repeat: no-repeat; padding-bottom:140px; background-position: bottom center;">Perhaps it was a mistake to prolong the awkwardness of the situation, but it would be there until Phoenix and Skoll ended this encounter and waited some time to forget it before meeting again. But now that they were past the initial embarrassment, Phoenix found his curiosity overwhelming him. This was a rare opportunity to speak with Skoll for the first time as equals, instead of a youngster to an elder, a leader to a subordinate, or, more recently, an instructor to a student. They had both been leveled by this event, and could speak to each other honestly, just as two males. Perhaps some good could come out of this unfortunate accident, after all.
The current leader of Storm merely nodded as the former member spoke, remaining respectfully silent. It was rather unfortunate, really. Phoenix didn’t know what kind of father Skoll would make, or what kind of mate he would be, but for him that was the only life he had ever wanted. He was a family man, and it gave him happiness and fulfillment beyond description. Skoll may have been a warrior, but he could not keep up that lifestyle forever. Phoenix found direction and purpose taking care of his children, and he could be a father to them for as long as they were around. The massive male knew contentment, and he wished his friends to know it as well.
“I almost didn’t say anythin’ to Iskata either,” Phoenix offered. For once the tables had turned, and it was Phoenix who had experience Skoll might be able to benefit from. “I think every male fears rejection, least th’ones I’ve met. Y’shouldn’t give up on yourself, though. Y’still got qualities females want. Loyalty, strength. With all th’females here in th’valley, there’s gotta be someone here who’d be perfect for you.” He offered Skoll a weak smile, appreciating this rare chance to see him as something other than a grizzled old fighter. “Under all that scar tissue y’got a good heart. Y’jus’ gotta let females see that.” | [/html]
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The yellow wolf cocked an eyebrow at the telepath, looking past him at the expanses of Bleeding Souls, contemplating what he'd said. Finding someone perfect for anyone else wasn't the kind of occurence he expected to see, though he understood that it was just a turn of phrase. Still, there weren't all that many women in Bleeding Souls, many of them were already paired off with other males, and most of them would have the common sense not to dig too deeply at the armor of someone who looked like he did. Still, he had gotten along well enough with Luz, with Maria(despite the language barrier), with Bellus and many others. It probably wasn't such a far-off possibility as he thought, but his age was a problem, as was his lone-wolf status.
"Perfection is something I wouldn't try to aspire to, myself, but someone who wasn't put off by my life-style would be nice. Life might have gone a little more smoothly if I'd broadened my horizons somewhat, you know? As it is, I met every girl I was ever interested in near a warzone, or by the bodies of fallen foes." He laughed slightly. "Not exactly a romantic setting." Battle really had been his entire life, but there was no need for it to be. Certainly he had to have a marketable skill during his travels, something to get him in to each pack, each pitstop, along his travels.
"I'm glad you think so," he said, looking down at his chest as if Phoenix had been referencing his literal heart. "Sometimes I wonder, myself. Just how much can a good heart get away with before it's not good any more? I've killed a lot of people, Phoenix; a lot more than you might think." His face was blank as he said those words, looking back up to Phoenix. He had been a more severe wolf once upon a time, it was true, but he still had an element of brutality by necessity about him. He wondered now, as the years passed by, did all of them really need to be killed? A lot of harm had come of Imlan's death, and not all to people who deserved it. Still, he had lived as best as he could. He had lost the guidance of his father at an early age, and only found one other rolemodel after that. He'd been making his own decisions for a long time now, and for good or ill, they had transpired as they would. He had gained wisdom from his years, but the price had been high.
"It may be that I'm just in the wrong part of the world. People here seem so much...softer, if you catch my meaning. They won't even defend themselves from creatures half their size, and yet they still live, at uneasy truce with a group that--by all rights--should be wary of its neighbors, not picking them off and looking for territorial expansions. I probably shouldn't expect someone from a culture like this one to understand someone like me. Maybe it's just my belief that a wolf should never be a prey animal." He sighed, wondering how on earth a situation like Bleeding Souls' could have ever actually come into being.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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[html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j40/k ... efinal.png);background-repeat: no-repeat; padding-bottom:140px; background-position: bottom center;">Perhaps perfection was too strong a word. Phoenix didn’t believe in perfection, himself; it was just an abstract concept, a quirk of the sentient mind. No matter what it was, everything had some inherent flaw that marred it. And even if it was ideal for one being that didn’t mean it was right for another. This was especially true for mates; there were no two beings who could spend their entire lives together and not clash. He and Iskata had plenty of disagreements from time to time, but he still loved her with a fierceness that could overcome their differences.
Phoenix didn’t believe Skoll had crossed the line that he was talking about, not did he believe his friend was beyond “redemption.” Certainly, he had chosen a way of life more… morally ambiguous than many preferred. And he did tend to stick out around here in Bleeding Souls, but who didn’t? There seemed to be more foreigners than natives living in the lands these days. “Th’fact that you’re afraid a’crossin’ that point proves y’haven’t crossed it yet,” he observed confidently. “Don’t you start believin’ those things Fatin an’ Gabriel are sayin’ bout you. We both know better, an’ so does everyone who jus’ takes a little time t’get t’know you.”
That was the problem though. Most wolves didn’t bother to get to know Skoll because he had a problem with first impressions. When Phoenix had first met him he hadn’t been so sure if Skoll was the kind of wolf he wanted to associate with, simply because he was gruff and all business. After the hunting accident, though, when he’d been forced to spend some time with Skoll, who told him a tale of his youth as he bandaged his wounds, Phoenix realized that his first impression had been a mistake. Even then, it took a while before he warmed up to the older wolf. And now… he could honestly say that Skoll was one of the closest friends he had, assuming that today hadn’t ruined that. Thankfully, it didn’t look like that was going to happen.
The trick would be finding a female who could spend some time with Skoll rather than being put off by any initial impressions. Phoenix looked away for a moment, racking his brain for any situations Skoll and a female could be put in where they would have to spend more than just a few minutes together. Unfortunately, getting them maimed by a buck was impractical. “I don’t really know what else t’tell you. I do believe you could find someone for you here in Bleeding Souls…” he paused to look Skoll over one more time. “You’re jus’ gonna hafta look harder. I looked over a year b’fore iskata an’ I became mates, and even after I found her it took a lotta work for ‘us’ t’work.” | [/html]
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The bronze wolf nodded solemnly, looking up at the grey clouds, wondering just what his chances were. He seemed to have hit it off pretty well with severel women in the past, but it had never gone anywhere. He couldn't even handle friendship much of the time because he spread himself too thin. He had been crushed to hear of what had befallen Soran and Conri, but there had been nothing he could do. Too often he was away from where he was needed, there was too much territory in Bleeding Souls, and too few strong wolves willing to do something about its tribulations. Inferni's threat could have been put to rest long ago, rapists and murderers could be dealt with in short order, but for some reason no one here was willing to do anything. If he took a mate, could he take care of her? Surely...if it was just her, just a few family that he kept close, surely.
"You're probably right," he conceded, meeting the alpha's eyes. "My misgivings are unfounded. Without Storm to take my attention away, I could take care of a family. With hypocrites hounding me, I can't afford to contemplate my own doubts at present, either. Still, when I think back to everything I've met at the border, it makes me wonder who you have on patrol now?" He knew that some of the enemies that had approached the border had approached it because of him. Urbald and Glaesring, Bron who had circled it angrily, seeking vengeance...the Shadow Priests hadn't had anything to do with him, but he had made sure that they would never threaten Storm again.
Yes, he should probably try again, but the population of Bleeding Souls was very young, in general, most were two and younger, barely into adulthood. Not a prime population for an old wolf to find a mate, but he knew that mix-maxed pairings were not uncommon. The thought of leaving a widow saddened him, though...he knew that his life would not be as long as many other wolves', he had led a much harder life, and that would take its toll on him, more than it had already. He had killed his lover, but that didn't mean he had to live like HawkWind, who had spent his entire life running from what he'd done. HawkWind, who had become VoidFane, lived for nine years alone after that incident, always alone, fighting back the guilt unto insanity. It wasn't quite as extreme for the bronze wolf, but he did not wish to emulate his great-great-grandfather to any degree, not in this.
"So, when will you return to Storm? What'll you do when you get there?"
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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[html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j40/k ... efinal.png);background-repeat: no-repeat; padding-bottom:140px; background-position: bottom center;">After butting heads with Fatin Kali and Phasma, Phoenix has lost his taste for dealing with the other packs. Jaded Shadows had a history of harboring criminals—they seemed unconcerned with justice, so he wanted nothing more to do with them. And Phasma… admittedly he had been a bit of a hot-head dealing with her, but so had she. He just couldn’t understand why anyone would take the word of someone who had stolen her home and killed members of her pack over the word of someone who had been her friend. Hadn’t Phoenix proven to her many times over that his only motivation for all his decisions was helping his friends, her included?
Now Phoenix understood why the founders of Storm had declared themselves a neutral pack. Barring a few exceptions, the other wolves of Bleeding Souls were either perpetrators or sheep waiting to be victims, unwilling to defend themselves. Hell, he wouldn’t have been surprised if some of them actually got off on being victimized for the sake of self pity. Minding their own business and not getting involved in the affairs of others, while at the same time not taking any shit themselves seemed to be the best policy. If only Skoll himself had understood that a year ago… then Phoenix wouldn’t have had to learn it the hard way himself.
Of course, then Iskata would have been out another daughter. For that, she owed Skoll her eternal gratitude, as did he even though he’d never met his mate’s adopted daughter.
At Skoll’s questions Phoenix chuckled slightly. “Always th’guardian, eh?” he observed. “Iskata, my oldest daughter Deirdre, an’ another wolf names Tamerlane are all Spahers. An’ me an’ Pilot also help patrol th’borders. I’ve had th’pack on alert for some time now, ‘cause of Inferni an’ in case my daughter comes home.” It was a shame Skoll was no longer a member. Phoenix wished there could be more wolves around from before he himself joined—being the pack elder at the age of three seemed wrong somehow. The massive male shuffled his legs a bit to keep them from falling asleep before letting his gave wander southward, towards the pack’s territory. “I guess I’ll go back when we’re done talkin’. I usually go home when my ‘headaches’ go away an’ try to catch up on th’rest of my day’s routine. Y’seemed to have helped me end it sooner, for better or for worse. If y’hadn’t come ‘round I pro’lly would still be lyin’ here feelin’ every little creature that crept close enough.” | [/html]
[html] Figured I'd throw in the segway for the next idea in, save us both some time.
The lone wolf nodded, satisfied with the report. Iskata knew how to take care of herself, as did Phoenix. He wasn't as sure about Pilot, but numbers never hurt anyone, and with a family of his own within the borders, anyone could be sure he was going to give it his all if an intruder ever tried to break through. The fact that the pack was on alert was a good thing. Skoll had almost always been on alert, and it had helped him a few times, though it had meant vastly less time to build relationships. Still, the wolf had been alone for a long time, and while he couldn't say he necessarily preferred it that way, he was used to it, and in a way it was a comfort. It meant that he didn't have to worry about popularity, he didn't have to worry about politics. Now, apart of Storm, that was even more true, and while it was galling to have been banished, there was a great deal of freedom in it.
"Just be glad you cut off the connection when you did. There are things in here I wouldn't want you, or anyone else, to have to see," he said, pointing to his skull with one clawed finger. "The Four Pack War was no small ordeal, don't get me wrong, but there was at least a veneer of civility. If they wanted you dead, they killed you outright. Not everyone is so kind." Frowning, he looked off in the distance.
"You know, a lot of the people who went with me to the War of Shadows never could go back to their old lives. Many of them had seen too much...they couldn't go back to the way things were before. Others had lost their entire pack in the effort, and had no home to return to. Some of those wolves followed me here, deciding to live outside of Bleeding Souls. I led them through hell, but now that they're out, they don't know what to do. I wasn't about to bring a gang of followers in with me, you know? The wolves here are leery enough of me without thinking I'm trying to start a coup. I visit them occasionally, those that settled down closest to the edge of Bleeding Souls, but they aren't doing so well. Some part of them died, and I don't know what I can do for them."
He was deeply troubled by this. He could get some of them out of the war alive, but saving their minds was different matter entirely. They weren't insane, but troubled so profoundly that there was no going back. When he reflected on it, he was largely the same way: there was no going back for him, either, but he had developed thick enough mental armor by the time he saw the cultists' work that he could go on. Many of these wolves had gone from ordinary, day-to-day life, to the deepest pit of nightmare overnight. The trauma was written in the very being of some of them, and as a diseased corner of their mind in others. None would ever shake it off completely, but even if they could go on living, he wanted to give them something to look forward to. Something to take their minds off of it, if only for a little while.
"You know, I think I'm going to schedule some sort of event for them. Maybe a friendly competition. This girl issue is important, and, well...I guess I'm glad it came up. Still, it'll take a while to resolve. In the meantime...what do you say? Interested? We could set it up on the far side of Storm, a few miles out so that none of the Souls' wolves pee themselves. You could even participate. A guy built like you? I'm sure you'd hold your own, you'd be more than a match for some of my old buddies." It was sort of spur of the moment, but hey, as long as he had Phoenix's ear, why not ask him?
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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[html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j40/k ... efinal.png);background-repeat: no-repeat; padding-bottom:140px; background-position: bottom center;">Since this is just the closer and I’ve been typing too much tonight as it is, I’m gonna make this short. It’ll probably suck anyway.
Fighting was not something Phoenix considered enjoyable. It was done only when necessary, to defend himself or his pack-mates. Even his regular training sessions with Skoll were in no way for enjoyment. Phoenix understood that he relied too heavily on his brute strength yet did not have the skill to properly use it—while he did not intend to become a great fighter, he didn’t want to run the risk of ever losing, considering the fact that he only fought when he or someone he cared about was in danger. It may have been a way of life for Skoll, but now that Phoenix had been given a taste of he was more sure than ever it was not the path for him.
He was more of a lover than a fighter, a family man. He too was glad that the subject had come up between him and Skoll… perhaps now he could finally return the favor and teach his elder a few skills that wold come in handy. Not that Phoenix was any expert in wooing females, but he obviously knew enough.
Still… Skoll’s offer intrigued him. He always enjoyed meeting new wolves, especially those who were friends of friends. Plus it might be handy to get acquainted with other warriors in case the uneasy peace between Storm and Gabriel ever came to an end. Phoenxi laughed after Skoll was done speaking. “That might be interestin’,” he answered. “Sure, why not?” Feeling that this meeting was coming to a close now that all that needed to be said was said, Phoenix got up and stretched. There was an understanding between the two males. It didn’t need to be stated aloud when all was said and done. “Well, I should be getting’ home,” he said. “For what it’s worth, it was… good, talkin’ t’you like this.” It probably wouldn’t occur agin for a while, if ever though. Now that the lines had been crossed the two wolves grew closer, yet they still each had their space that the other would respect. | [/html]
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