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Young and strong paws almost seemed to dance as the boy moved closer to Phoenix Valley’s borders. He had avoided this place for far too long. Absently, he wondered if uncle Lysander was still around. Although Conor Soul never truly had warmed up to the man that had taken care of the Soul litter after their mother staged the kidnapping, he had not disliked the doggish male either. The Phoenix Valley male had treated them well and the day Conor had gone missing it was not because he had attempted to escape – but because he had simply gotten lost. The young, golden male traced the borders quickly, suddenly aching to break into the pack lands and find Lysander’s cabin. He was surprised at this urge, allowing lavender orbs to dance across the claimed area. Would they understand if he asked to be taken there? Well, why not call for Lysander in person? Muzzle lifted and he called out for his former guardian, unaware of the fact that Lysander no longer lived here.
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Pendzez went along the border, taking his turn in border patrol. He was so happy, since his beloved mate was due to have pups soon. He was gonna be father, something far greater than any rank that he had or he achieved. He was unsure of the whole thing, but he knew that wih the spirits help, he would know the true way of fatherhood. He promised that he would love Xeris and protect her and his children.
Coming along, he heard a howl on the wind, that was a calling for someone in the pack, or at least someone who was here. Clutching his masamune, he approached the source of the howl, finding that it was from a young wolf, with a brownish goldy copper pelt. Finding no threat, Pendzez still remained cautious while walking up the young male. "Good day, young sir. What brings you to Phoenix Valley today?" he asked.
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Conor had always been a patient individual, and so he leaned against the trunk of a solid oak tree and let his mind drift. There was no howl in return, but that did not have to mean anything. Hopefully it meant that Lysander was on his way. Joyous anticipation graced the young male’s face and he felt a few, gentle spikes of adrenaline wander through his veins. He regretted that he had not thought of this before. Perhaps his former guardian was a ladies’ man and could give him a few hints how to not completely lose Alexey. Ah, just thinking about that foolish move he had made back then made his heart cringe. The kiss had been beautiful and filled him with more happiness than he had ever known, but it had been against her will and he was afraid he had ruined everything.
A white male was who approached him now and Conor felt slightly confused. He was certain he had not met this male before, but this was definitely a pack member. The greeting was pleasant enough and Conor offered a polite smile and a respectful nod. ”Hello, my name is Conor Soul and I am looking for an old friend, Lysander.” the boy said, introducing himself as well as revealing why he was here.
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Pendzez wondered why the young male was here. Was there someone here he knew and wanted to see again? Like an old friend? He introduced himself along with a name that sounded familiar to the white male. He had heard that Lysander, along with Asrial, or something like that, had left recently. They didn't really say where they were going to, but they left. Pendzez thought that there was something between Ty and Asrial, but maybe not if she left with Lysander.
Returning to the subject in hand, Pendzez turned his attention back to the young male who was looking for Lysander. "Nice to meet you, Conor. I'm Pendzez Zazkex, Nuncio, or Ambassador, of the pack. Unfortunately, Lysander left us. We don't know where, sorry." he asked. Obviously Ly was a friend if Conor was looking for him.
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I don't understand how I managed to forget about this thread yesterday D: Sorry for the little wait!
A pleasant and polite smile graced the young male’s maw as the Phoenix Valley member introduced himself. It was a peculiar name and it sharpened the Dahlian’s interest. Strange, foreign names indicated strange and foreign wolves, after all. Rurik Russo had come all the way from the other side of the world, a world that clearly was so much bigger than he first had though. The inspiration for many names claimed by wolves in these lands came from other places, and now Conor wondered about Pendzez’s roots.
The news of Lysander’s disappearance was received with mixed emotion. There were so many joiners and a similar amount of leavers, so he was not taken much by surprise by learning that his former guardian was another number in the latter category. A shame, but that was how it was. ”I’m sorry to hear, but I suppose it is alright.” the boy said neatly. ”I did not know him that well anyway,” he decided to add.
The golden Dahlian de Mai member did not want silence to cling to them and push the meeting to end too soon. He quite enjoyed getting new acquaintances and his interest had already been triggered by the Nunicio’s name. ”I find your name quite unique, Pendzez. Are you originally from these lands?”
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OOC: It's cool. 
The name Conor was interesting to the white male as was pleased that the young wolf was pleased. Pendzez had not met someone with the name of Conor before, nor as he heard of that name before. It might have been common with the humans, but uncommon to Pendzez. Then again, Pendzez hadn't been away from the pack recently, since Xeris has been pregnant recently. He had the responsibilities of fatherhood being slowly put upon his shoulders.
Lysander somehow didn't seem to worry the young male, hearing that he didn't really now him all that well. Pendzez didn't see this as an alarming matter. He didn't really know him at all. Wolves leave, wolves join. It's a way of life. Pendzez shifted to a sitting position as he made conversation with the boy. "Actually, I'm from the north. From a tundra pack," he said as he relaxed himself, leaning backwards against his hands
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As the Phoenix Valley member sat down on the cool ground, Conor did the same, determined that he as a trespasser under no circumstances was to hover over a member as long as he was a trespasser in or close to their territory. The boy crossed his legs casually, leaning slightly forwards while resting some of the weight of his upper body on elbows on top of legs. White tipped tail curled elegantly along his form. Conor was surprised to hear such a simple story. From the north and not from some exotic place on the other side of the world? It should come as no shock – Pendzez voice held no heavy accent like Rurik’s voice. Conor felt a bit disappointed, but grimaced mentally at himself for walking about with such high expectations of strangers all of a sudden.
”Yeah, your coat is white, so shouldn’t surprise me,” The Dahlian male replied, smiling. He wondered if the male had any stories to tell. ”I was born here, so my life is rather dull.” Conor’s life was not all that exciting, no. ”What brought you to ‘Souls then, if you don’t mind me asking? What was it like living with the tundra pack?” He wondered if they had permanent winters there, if they were all dressed up in white coats as brilliant as Pendzez’. Conor was beginning to realize that he was very curious by nature. As a child he had thought he was the opposite because of his damaged mentality. Now when good health was flowing through the young male, he realized how thick some of those mental barriers had been.
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Pendzez felt happy as he was complimented about his pelt color. It would have been obvious, but anyone could have a white pelt anywhere. You don't have to be born in a certain place to have a white pelt. Flayra wasn't born in the north and she has a white plet, but she has some light grey mixed into her pelt. "Not everyone with a white pelt is from the north." she said with a little chuckle.
Life does get dull when you only spend your time in one place than in many. However, people choose to have a dull life with little or no excitement mixed into it, but Pendzez always found ways to make his life exciting in some ways. "Oh, my parents were from this area, before Phoenix Valley became Phoenix Valley. My mother came from a long line of single born children, meaning only one is pup is conceived at a time. I was still being conceived when they went for an adventure to the northern tundras, finding a small pack. That's when I was born. After staying for a few days, we returned to Souls." He took a breath after speaking all that. It was somehow well detailed, kind of.
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Ears flickered gently as Pendzez answered, and the boy was puzzled as the older male gave a soft chuckle. This was partly true. While Pendzez was actually right, he was also somewhat wrong. The northern parts of Canada was – at least originally – inhabited by arctic wolves. ”No, but I thought most from the wolves were of arctic heritage in order to survive the harsh climate up there,” the boy replied, uncertainty present in his voice. Snow did not necessarily decide the colour of pelt, but genes and subspecies definitely did according to what he had read about genes and heritage.
He was surprised to hear that Pendzez was actually from this very area, even before the pack had been established. A small smile graced his lips then, for he was fascinated by the man’s words. ”Oh, so they live here?” It was only natural for the young male to assume that the Phoenix Valley wolf’s family was here now as well, since he had said that they had returned to this area after their adventure.
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Some wolves were common from the Northern area, other wolves had the instinct to survive. It was what made them, same with the instinct of hunting for food and survive considerably unbearable heat, even a dreadful storm. "Some wolves aren't of arctic heritage. We just have that instinct to survive in harsh climates."
However, when it came to his parents, the situation changed. He remembered his parents well. "Unfortunately, they are no longer upon the Earth." He showed no sadness, but he kept them in his memory. That was the only thing he could do now a days.
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Pendzez words made enough sense for the boy to nod and agree. The lands of ‘Souls were so mixed with different types of canines, so there were few rules that applied to specific parts of the world anymore – or so he guessed. The white Phoenix Valley male was older and wiser, so the boy could only assume that he was in the right. Conor knew that he held a great percentage of arctic wolf within his genes and could not help but wonder if he would have the guts to survive in an area that had only ice and cold to offer. His thoughts fled as it was revealed that the white man’s parents no longer lived. Ears flattened in silent sympathy, but he saw no emotion flash across the red eyed man’s face. ”I am sorry to hear,” he said with his friendly voice. He then fell silent, unsure of how to continue the conversation. It did not take him long to find something new to add into the conversation. He had several times let his lilac gaze fall on the beautiful weapon the white man carried and was beyond intrigued. ”It’s a beautiful sword you’re carrying, Pendzez,” the boy began as he nodded towards the shiny blade. ”Do you have skill in using it as well?”
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Pendzez had his eyes upon the boy as Conor showed sympathy for the white male's parents' death. Pendzez had moved on, though they will always be in his memory. That was the only place where things of the past reside, good or bad memories, they are memories none the less. "Thank you. What about your parents young one?"
Pendzez looked to his sword as the young male seemed curious about it. In close situations, his sword would be his only ally and trusted friend. It was better to be safe than sorry. "Ah, the Masamune is indeed a beautiful, yet deadly sword, only known to be given to certain lords of Japan. With skills, mainly Bushido skills."
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Conor could not erase the dark clouds filling up his lilac orbs before it was a bit too late and it was almost certain that Pendzez had noticed. Although Conor was very little like his father, there was a quiet rage bottled up inside him. He hoped it would never be set free. It was of course not Pendzez intention to cause shadow to travel across the young boy’s face, but there were few things that could make the young boy bitterer than when he thought of his parents. Both were monsters with little regards of others. Firefly was less of a monster, but she had led him into a series of events that had almost killed him as a child and she was far from present in her boys’ lives. Good riddance. ”My parents are alive and well here in 'Souls, but I grew up on my own and feel no love for them.” Some young creatures said such things in this age, but Conor full heartedly meant what he said. He wished for Haku’s death.
The sword, or masamune he called it, was indeed beautiful. The thought of his parents fled as new space was made to fully enter this new, exciting subject. He had worked with staves together with Onus and Cwmfen, but not with swords. Now there was none left to guide the young warrior further along the path and he severely missed the practise. ”Is Japan the little country by the shore in the part of the world humans called Asia?” he first had to ask, not feeling steady on his geographic abilities, though he knew he had read the country’s name once briefly. ”Tell me about Bushido,” the boy then said, letting his face quietly apologize to the man in case he had sounded a bit too bossy. Excitement took over and he drank heavily from it, loving the pleasurable warmth from joy again with the opportunity to learn something new.
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Sorry for lateness. Christmas and grounded are a dangerous mix.
From how the young boy said about his parents, he found that he was able to thrive by himself, not to mention that the showed little love for him. It was then that Soul came to mind. Soul was Conor's last name. "Soul? Your father isn't Haku Soul, right?" The word Soul seems to be a word on the mind lately. Pendzez couldn't explain it.
Pendzez listened as the boy asked about Japan. It was a little country, but it was considered to be a part of the Asian continent. Known to be home of the ancient warriors called samurais. "Yes it is, but Japan is considered to be part of Asia. It's off the coast of China, if that's what you mean."
The white wolf then felt willing to explain the truth of the ancient art. "Bushido was an ancient fighting style, mainly practiced by the samurais. It included little fighting styles, which put together make Bushido. Most of those styles still exist today. Karate, for example."
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No worries
A light frown was displayed on the golden male’s face when his father’s name was brought forth by the white male. Busted. ”He is indeed my father. Do you know him?” Conor did not know how famous the blue eyed sire was outside of Dahlia. There were many things he did not know. All he knew was that he was surprised that Pendzez guessed his father’s name. There were many packs in these lands, but perhaps leaders were most commonly known for their rank. They often visited other packs to keep updated with news and form bonds, did they not?
The Dahlian was positively surprised when it turned out that he had been correct. He did not understand if Pendzez meant that he was right or not, but the facts revealed turned out to be correct, and so the boy grinned with a touch of surprised pride. China was another named of a country he had seen on the human map, and he struggled to see the image of the faded page with his inner eyes. He quickly shoved the thoughts aside, for Pendzez had not finished speaking. Hunger for knowledge returned to lavender hued eyes and he eagerly devoured the man’s words. Karate was a word he recognized, though what he had trained with Cwmfen had been named something differently.
”Do you know these fighting styles?” the boy wide-eyed wondered, an amazed smile sneaking into his face without ever being noticed. He had been lacking a teacher ever since Cwmfen and Onus had left the pack and he truly missed obtaining and polishing martial art.
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Pendzez showed no serious interest or any reason why he brought up Haku's name. Pendzez only met him once, but he could feel something that the spirits seem to fear. It must be the darkness deep within him that makes him a being of, in some way, sin. "Met him once, but never got social. Never found reason to be social and well known with a creature that is..." He then realized he lost track. "Sorry, not important and something you wouldn't understand."
For the fighting styles, Pendzez was indeed knowledgeable of these techniques and styles, even the ones that seem hard. It wasn't just swords or sticks, but it was also unarmed and meditation to calm the mind, which helps predict enemy movements. "Why yes. It ain't just a way to use a sword, but also for defense and body meditation. Meditation helps calm the mind and soul, lets you have more feel in your attacks."
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The youth’s ears flew backwards the instant Pendzez spoke of his father in such a manner. There was light annoyance when words were let out because the white male meant that he would not understand. Was it fair to judge him already or was it an automatic response because he was young? Lips twisted in an unhappy frown as he looked at the crimson eyed male. ”What is it that I would not understand?” he asked, allowing his voice to drop in level, though not letting it be too apparent that he found the man’s former words slightly insulting.
Defense and body meditation was part of a package deal and Conor’s brain drooled. To learn techniques to calm himself was something he knew would be useful. Deep inside, Conor Soul had a rage similar to that of his father. The essence of his father’s sickness had been transferred to his son, though slumbered peacefully inside the boy. Sometimes he had felt the boiling fire and he had recognized it for what it was. He feared it – always determined to be nothing like his father. ”Would you be willing to teach me your ways?” he asked softly; almost pleading with the desire to learn.
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Pendzez saw that the young boy wolf showed a slight annoyance from the words Pendzez spoke about his father, however, Pendzez did not know if the boy was someone who believed in the Spirits. The white male thought he was being to judgmental, so maybe the boy should receive a reason, or at least something for which he would maybe understand. "Let me ask you this. Do you believe in the Spirits, young one?"
The white male then saw desire and eagerness in the young wolf to learn the many arts that was of the bushido style. For the first time, Pendzez saw that he was gonna be a teacher in fighting, like he was a teacher when Rendall was still in the pack. "If you desire it. However, these styles isn't something that happens in a blink. Just letting you know that."
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This thread is going towards the end -- would you be up for another after?
Spirits, demons, angels. Conor had encountered similar conversation topics and was relatively open minded about such things. He knew that some kind of devil lived inside of his father. There were many beliefs out there and he could not help but wish that he knew more exactly what Pendzez spoke of. Spirits, the Spirits, he tilted his head and let his eyes drift for a moment. Open minded definitely.
”I believe there are more things out there than many of us acknowledge,” he replied as he looked back to the white man with the gentle mind.
Conor Soul dipped his muzzle when the older man again spoke and said what only was expected – this would take time. His heart’s pace picked up in speed, spreading the joy around with fuelled blood. A smile danced on the youth’s lips now, for this certainly seemed like an acceptance to train him. How he had missed those lessons that Cwmfen and even sometimes Onus had given him. It had not only helped him to understand his own body, but it had settled his mind and let him found peace much more easily. Conor did not know the toughness of the times ahead, but he knew his priorities and one of the roles he had chosen for himself in the future was the protector’s.
”Thank you, Pendzez. I pray I can be a student worthy of your teachings.”
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OOC: Sure
From the look on the young boy's face, he did kind of believe, but like called it something else. Pendzez had only referred them as spirits, good or bad. However, Pendzez sort of thought that the boy knew of what Haku was. Even the son would know of what lies inside his father, like Pendzez does, but what could Pendzez do, being a wolf with a duty of keeping the pack safe. "Yes, there are. What they are, we don't know."
Conor then looked like he was gonna jump up and down, but did not. Pendzez smiled a little to the boy, seeing now that he was gonna be a teacher to someone that was outside Phoenix Valley. It wasn't that the white male had a problem with it. It was training. Besides, the white wolf has not met anyone who knew of the art or anyone who would be willing to learn. "I feel that there is potential within you, Conor. I shall teach the art of Bushido."
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