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Snake—more esurient than he had felt in days—had immediately ascertained that his greatest chances for getting a good meal lay in the Forest of Nod. He rose early in the morning, from his temporary den in the Caves as his current project in the Landfill was still under construction, already shifted into his Lupus form. It was the easiest to hunt in, he had always thought. Attempting to hunt in Optime form was a laughable concept, and he found his Secui too bulky. The young coyote had always had a skill for shifting—his top time for going from one form to the next was a little under three minutes, though he averaged around four or five. He was very comfortable in his trinity of physical forms, but they all had their purposes. His most human was default for him, his Halfling and feral form for fighting, and his most basic canine form for hunting and travelling. That was how things were for him.
Regardless, the rains had spared the lands of Inferni once more, clustering more in the south of Bleeding Souls. The sky was a milky gray, shaded pink with the rising sun in the east, and the distant ocean and the omnipresent wind provided a background of sounds while the young coyote raced towards the trees. He met no one and he smelled no one—not strange, as this expansive land was only inhabited by perhaps a dozen coyotes and hybrids. He didn’t mind. Snake accepted that they must band together for survival, but he thought he was a pretty solitary creature at his heart.
He entered the forest perhaps ten minutes after travelling at a comfortable pace; he didn’t want to tire himself out before hunting. He lowered himself into a hunting crouch, creeping through the twilit undergrowth as he searched for traces of small game. They weren’t hard to find. Mouse, rabbit, squirrel, hedgehog, and maybe a few more trails of the more elusive martin and badger (though who would want to eat one of those nasty critters?) were scattered around. After a brief thought, Snake went along the easy route and started to track the freshest rabbit scent. Rabbit, to him, was much like breakfast cereal was to a person—it was overdone and eaten often, but it was so much of a staple to his diet that he refused to abandon it.
Not to go into the painstaking trivialities of hunting, but Snake got extremely lucky. He betrayed his position to his quarry a second before he pounced, giving it a head-start. After a ten-second long and pulse-pounding chase, the youth caught up to the brown-hued rodent before it could escape into its burrow. With a swift snap of his strong jaws, the creature’s life was ended. His olive eyes wide with the thrill of the hunt, and the taste of the fresh blood on his jaws sent him into the state of hunter’s euphoria. It passed somewhat as he picked up the limp catch and carried it to a hollow nestled between the roots of a huge tree, though it thrummed within his veins still as he began to devour the still-warm body. It was feral—tracing right down to the origins of predators and prey. Snake enjoyed being the victor in the small struggle, especially when it ended in a meal.
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With Kaena taking her duties up energetically (especially for a woman her age), Gabriel was no longer so startled to find strangers roaming Inferni. She did not need to call him and alert him to every newcomer, and it was not as if he sought them out. Inferni survived mostly because its members were able to exist independently. Were they to be truly co-dependent, as the wolves were, they would die. Not one of the coyotes in his clan had been exclusively pampered there—even though Gabriel and his brothers were both born into Inferni, they had all grown up outside of its borders. So in a way, he supposed, what his children were doing was not uncommon. It still kept him up at nights, feeling that ache of loss, but each day made it less painful. Were they never to return, as many of his family had proven time and time again, it would not be half-so terrible.
A flurry of noise, followed by the unmistakable shriek of a rabbit, told Gabriel that he was no longer alone. Turning his path towards the source, he was greeted first by the scent of blood, and then by a tawny boy that might have been his son a year ago. Though he was in no way hungry, Gabriel’s raptor eyes remained focused on both the boy and the kill. He was interested in the youth, if only for the fact he did not know him. Obviously, he was a member of the clan. Something else, though, something else about him seemed familiar.
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It took Snake a decent amount of time to descry the other’s presence—his sense of smell was rendered virtually useless with the thick, sweet scent of blood so fresh in the air, and he was quite preoccupied with eating at first to notice. But it was that sixth, primal sense that animals had that alerted him at last, when the fur along his spine began to prickle and he got the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. His olive eyes darted up and he was startled to see the other canine watching him wordlessly. It was not needlessly awkward, as Snake wasn’t exactly the most socially inclined, and wouldn’t know any better.
The young coyote stood immediately, backing several steps away from the fresh kill and lowering his head nearly to the ground. His ears pinned behind his head and his tail limp, it was decently obvious that he was playing it safe with submission. He did not know this Inferni member, but from scent (that he could now sense around the smell of blood and death) he could tell that the man was established here. He had no idea that this was Gabriel—the son of Kaena, and the Aquila— but he knew that he was definitely higher-ranked than he was, if not simply due to longevity in the clan. Snake’s first few pivotal months were spent fighting for food to supplement the paltry amount he was given, and he had the assumption that everyone would fight him for what he hunted already ingrained in his head, though months of living after that would have proved him wrong. He also knew that sometimes it was better to give up the fight before it was fought—he would go out and hunt again, and he would be better off than if he tried to stick up for himself now.
Of course, that was all with the assumption of challenge in his mind—it was the only reason why the young coyote could think of for the other male’s presence there.
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This was the second boy to show an almost instant display of submission—something Gabriel found incredibly peculiar. Of course, he had led a clan made up mostly of family. None of his siblings found a need to show him any physical respect, and had in fact done the opposite. Samael and Andrezej had come at him tooth and nail, and one now lay dead and buried because of this. Gabriel no longer thought about that boy, and he no longer considered what the events of that day had meant. Andre was dead. The threat, as perceived, was dead with him.
A few scraps of meat remained on the rabbit, but they did not interest the Aquila. He was still searching for the thing that would make him remember—where had he seen this boy before? Not this boy, but someone that looked like him. “I’m not here to take your food,” his rough voice explained. “There’s no purpose in stealing from my clan members.”
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Though Snake’s line of sight was nowhere near the other coyote’s, he could feel the older male’s gaze boring into him. It made heat rise to his face—strange, especially since he rarely cared if anyone scrutinized him. But perhaps it was the way that this stranger was looking at him, as if he was searching for something. The young coyote couldn’t possibly know that Gabriel could see his parents within his own appearance; it wouldn’t come to his mind first off, even if he did know. All he knew was it made him feel strange.
Finally the other growled that he wasn’t there to take Snake’s food, which was enough to make the younger’s golden ear twitch with surprise. With the further explanation, the Tirones’ posture softened—his head came up marginally, and his shoulders slacked. He didn’t allow his gaze to rise yet, though; perhaps in fear of meeting that wondering gaze. To show that he had understood the older coyote, Snake took a half-step forward, towards the remains of the rabbit. He glanced momentarily towards the stranger (though not anywhere near his face), and sifted through his memory. He decided, when the momentary silence was enough to make his skin crawl in such a circumstance, to take a stab in the dark— “Are you—Gabriel?”
It had taken him a moment to try to remember what Kaena had told him, that day a few weeks ago when he was first accepted into Inferni. She had said that she was only second-in-command of the pack, and that her son, Gabriel, was the Aquila. While Snake was not really familiar with the strange hierarchy of Inferni (it was very different from the totalitarian regime that Patriot had held in New Haven), he knew enough to understand the leadership. While this coyote before him could be any number of the coyotes that lived here along Hades Coast, something about his presence made Snake assume that he was dominant over everyone—therefore leading his thoughts back, like a reference in source code, to that first meeting with Hezekiah and Kaena Lykoi.
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A nod answered the question moments before he spoke. “I am.” It was obvious that Kaena had accepted the boy, especially given that his name was known. Even though Gabriel was the leader of Inferni, he found it worked well to have his mother (the founder of the original clan) being the one to find these strangers. She looked more like a coyote then he did, and even if she did come off as a bit frightening, she had a way of speaking that helped settle people. That was, of course, unless she was bringing down all of her hell fury on them.
Smiling a little at the thought, the hybrid let his gaze leave the boy and trail off to the surrounding area. There was little motion outside of their presence. A bird flitted from one tree to another, and a squirrel leap through the air and vanished into the tree line. Gabriel flicked one ear and then turned back to his companion. “What’s your name?” And why are you so damn familiar?
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His hunch paid off—though he could see only a small resemblance between the woman who had accepted him and this hybrid, he was indeed Gabriel. Immediately Snake dipped his head respectfully, even though he didn’t feel that the situation absolutely required it. It was a habit. Still, it was strange—Snake had been hearing that Inferni was the great coyote clan of the ‘Souls area, and yet it seemed that the leadership was comprised of those that didn’t really resemble coyotes much at all. The boy didn’t really care, but it piqued his curiosity. Looking (indirectly) at Gabriel, he would have guessed him a wolf or a dog before he guessed coyote.
There were vague hints of life about in the milieu of the forest—the sandy-furred coyote could sense birds singing and flying about, as well as the general hubbub of the rodents and even some insects in the undergrowth. He didn’t focus on any of this, though; his attention was on two things—the Aquila and his food, which was unfinished and still had Snake’s stomach churning in a desiring fashion. He put aside hunger for a moment, however, and responded to the leader’s question. “My name is Snake,” he responded earnestly. Snake had long since decided that he did not require a surname, nor did he deserve one. If he ever adopted a name to compliment what he was called initially, it would be one born of his own mind and not of a parent’s name. Unfortunately, this would not help Gabriel in his search for figuring out who this coyote was. Snake had no idea that he rang familiar with Gabriel, or anyone else that he might come across here. So far, no one had found his uncanny resemblance to his father. That didn’t seem like it would last much longer, though.
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The unfamiliar name did not make the familiar face make any more sense. He couldn’t place him, and this piqued his curiosity. Still, he did not feel the need to demand further information, and let the desire fall to the wayside. “You can eat,” he assured the boy. As if to further his point, the Aquila settled onto his stomach. Though the ground was cold, it was not damp, and not entirely uncomfortable. Shaking his head, the hybrid yawned widely and exposed his teeth to the crisp air. His muzzle shut with a smart snap.
While he waited for his companion to finish his meal, Gabriel allowed his gaze to trail amongst the forest. There were small motions here and there; a bird, a noisy squirrel, small animals in the underbrush. Ever since their last trespasser had been hung out to dry, there had been little excitement. This was perfectly all right with Gabriel, though—the effort to hunt wolves was much more demanding then prey animals.
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His name didn’t seem to satiate the leader’s hunger for some invisible question of his, but Snake didn’t really bother in looking into that. No, as soon as Gabriel told him that it would be okay to eat, he began to once more pick at the carcass of the rabbit, though his appetite wasn’t what it was moments ago. After a few more bites, he resolved to take whatever was left of it back to his home in the landfill, and looked hesitantly up to the Aquila. The other canine seemed transfixed in the area around him. Snake was not at all disturbed by the lack of talking—a silent fellow himself, he was an advocate against maunder. But nonetheless, curiosities pricked at him, and he eventually forsook his caution and asked, his rough voice lower than usual, “I’ve heard so much of this coyote clan being against wolves and other canines, and that we keep them away but—you and Kaena do not at all appear coyote, upon first glance. Is there a reason for that?” After a moment’s silence, the younger coyote added, “If you don’t mind me asking.” The issue of species was a new one to him—he had never really thought much about it until coming here. He wasn’t sure if this was a more touchy topic than usual, or if it was no big deal. But if Snake had learned anything over the months, it was that you should always be cautious. Especially around those you didn’t know well—or even those that you did.
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Someone had told Snake about Inferni. Gabriel’s ears turned at his voice, and wondered just how far rumors of the murderous coyotes had spread. Certainly, his siblings had aiding in that effect. Vitium’s children had come with rose-tinted glasses and had them ripped from their faces, each more viciously then the last. Halo alone remained, reminding Gabriel of the same Darwinism he viewed his siblings with. Of all his mother’s litters, only the strongest had survived.
“Our family is made up of mongrels,” he explained flatly, turning his face back to the boy. “My mother was never particular about who sired her offspring.” The top of his muzzle twisted, curling his whiskers up in a spiteful half-smile. “Part of being a hybrid is defining your place. Because we chose coyote, our family has suffered.” Without a doubt Gabriel, and his siblings, could have gone to their father and turned into wolves. For Gabriel the choice had been made the day his brother had died on the sand.
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Though it might appear so, Snake didn’t care whatsoever that Inferni used offense as their defense against the other canines of the area. Violence was not something so new and repugnant to him—it was a second atmosphere, something that he had lived in his whole life and never took much notice to. The reason for his asking was merely that one would expect the leaders of a clan geared against other species to be entirely of that denomination—it’s not as if you come across race gangs in jail being led by someone of a different race than its members. Still, the explanation that Gabriel offered him made sense. Though his opinion of Kaena was neutral—cast somewhat into the positive, as she had graciously allowed him to stay here upon his blank resume—the Aquila’s own opinion was very different. Snake’s eyes did not miss the grimace appear on his face, and he briefly wondered what that relationship must be like. So very different than Snake’s own—he, who neither loved nor hated his family. To be in relation with Snake was a very gray thing; the unemotional boy’s aloofness made sure of that.
Of course the question had to rise: “Then why did you choose to stay here and make war with them?” As someone who did not have that choice—and as a full-blooded coyote who might find himself in danger outside Inferni’s boundaries—he was genuinely intrigued. Such interest was not a common occurrence for him, but still. Snake was all about survival, and if it was possible that he could impersonate a wolf and that would increase his chances of living longer, he would take it. Why would Gabriel—who could stand for a wolf, a dog, or a coyote, as far as Snake could tell—remain here and risk himself?
Perhaps the missing piece of the puzzle was something that Snake could not see. He didn’t see far past himself, so the appendages of family, heritage, comrades, or any of these things were quite alien to him. Which was much the reason for his confusion.
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There had been an option, years ago, to abandon his dual heritage and go, as his brother and sister had, with their father. Ahren had been his way out. Never once had his father denied his son. Even though a part of him had wanted this (a part certainly urged on by the absence of his mother), he had been held back by two terrible images. Even now, prompted by a question such as this, a change overcame him. Gabriel’s amber colored eyes darkened and focused somewhere inside of himself.
“A wolf killed my brother when he was a child. Ripped his arm off while he was still breathing.” He hadn’t just been breathing, though. Baneesh had been screaming, a terrible sound that should never have been heard on this earth. It was worse then the rabbit’s cry because it had been so familiar. There was nothing Gabriel could do but stare, and feel the blood in his body turn cold. Even after he had begun to run, abandoning his brother, abandoning his home, that scream had continued behind him. Though he knew that he could have done nothing, the child in him regretted not trying.
Slowly, the Aquila’s focus returned to his younger companion. “I lost a sister to wolves as well.”
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He discerned a visible change in the hybrid—his eyes grew dark, and Snake could imagine that he saw his musculature growing more rigid with memory. As he retold what had happened in the past, and what the lupine hoi polloi had done to him personally. Snake didn’t seem fazed at all by the violence that the Aquila told him (he didn’t really seem affected by much of anything, really), though he did look away, for respect for Gabriel’s deceased family members if anything. But this young coyote was quite confused on the topic of species and violence, and the intricacies between those two things. He had seen wolves do terrible things, and to coyotes in particular, but he had seen coyotes do awful things as well. He couldn’t make up his mind. Within his first few weeks at Inferni he had befriended (though this is a tentative term, with this stoic coyote) a wolf and been targeted by others. Back at home, though they had been primarily wolves, coyotes—his own brother, in particular—had been the biggest danger to him.
Gabriel’s reasons were good enough to tell for why he remained in the coyote clan rather than in a wolf pack, and Snake accepted them. He did murmur after a moment however, “I’m still not sure what to think about it—wolves and coyotes. I’ve met malicious and kind individuals of both. I’ve been threatened by wolves and scarred by coyotes,” here he shifted, and a keen eye could catch the scar across his ribs through sandy-gold fur, “But I suppose here, it is safer just to stick with your own kind.” He didn’t pose it as a question, because he had already seen, with his own two eyes, how wolves could react. Daisuke had been a fluke—a loner from islands across a distant sea. Perhaps there they didn’t care what you were.
Here in these lands, things were different.
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There was blood spilled by both sides; Gabriel knew this all too well. He had killed young, and he had killed without thinking. Twice, he had done so. Once his war (he did not realize he had begun to think in such a way) with Haku had begun, the numbers no longer mattered. Four, he could remember. They had been strangers who had done no further ill to him then cross his path. Gabriel believed in redemption, and he believed in retribution. Mostly, though, he believed in blood.
“It’s difficult,” he admitted. Four years had not proven this wrong. His mother, older then dirt, had no answers for him either.“Personally, I believe what I’ve seen. Some people you can trust. Others you can’t. S’why I have this beauty mark on my face.” One moment of weakness had cost him that. A moment of hesitation would have cost him his life. Snake was the first person not of Scintilla that he had told that to. This fact went by unnoticed; Gabriel could not shake the dim familiarity and the ever-echoing scream in his head.
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Snake had never taken a life, but there was still a long life ahead of him to live. Personally, he had no qualms with it. He was not an aggressive creature, and would only resort to fighting if it was in defense of himself or of a pack that he stood for. Of course, this was all being said on behalf of a creature whose rage, passion, and sorrow grew as slowly as the glaciers crept. One might worry what would happen when it finally became too much for him—would he simply snap, or would it release like a safety valve on a hot water heater? He didn’t know, and, since rage was such a foreign concept to him, he probably wouldn’t any time soon.
The young coyote glanced up fleetingly to the leaders face, seeing the scar glint beneath the dark fur of his muzzle. Snake wondered briefly what had caused it, but he daren’t ask. He personally hated explaining the origin of his own scar (when asked, he would reply “it was a mistake” vaguely, or something of that sort), and part of him assumed that Gabriel felt the same way. After a short and pensive moment, the coyote’s head dipped and he replied, “Thank you for the advice, Gabriel.” He stood, retreating a step from the finished meal and continuing, “I’m glad to have met you, and I hope that I can prove useful to you in the future.” Though his voice never fluctuated in its flat tone, he was genuine.
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