call me with thy saints surrounded

POSTED: Mon Aug 08, 2011 6:38 pm

500+
July 25th.

Noah Only

His father had come home covered in blood not more than two days ago and Noah had been concerned. He had wanted to know what had happened, but his parents had told him not to worry about it. The young wolfdog growled with frustration as he crossed the living room to the book shelf, pulling out the dictionary. In the past, he had heard his father say things about his own name, indicating that it meant something. The younger Haskel wanted to know now what it was. He had been taught to read early on, so he opened the old book without hesitation and turned the pages roughly to the V section. Va... Ve... Vi.

Bicolored eyes scanned the page when he stopped in the right area of the old book. Vigilante, he thought, looking at the definition for the term. It took a moment for it to register in his mind and then it dawned on him. His father, the man he idolized as the pack's King, who loved his mother and who took in orphaned children and loved them as his own... Was a murderer.

His whole body felt cold. A numbness was spreading through him. The dictionary fell to the floor, the definition echoing in his mind. It did not matter the reason for it. His father was a murderer and he had kept it a secret. Worse, he had killed only two days before. Noah knew that now, though he had no proof of it. His name painted his crime when he had come home covered in someone else's blood. "Father!" he half yelled, half growled.

Together

The father was startled by the sound of his son's shout, padding quickly down the hall to the living room where Noah was. He did not know what to expect, but it was certainly not to see his son standing there on two legs looking venomous. "Noah, is everyth—" he began, but he was cut off by a growl from the younger man, for that was what his son had become. He was no longer a boy, but had grown into an adult in the pack, though he was still very young and the King could only see him as his son, not a fellow adult. Noah was a boy in his father's eyes.

"You are a MURDERER!" Noah growled, every syllable laced with poison. "You lied to me. You've been lying to EVERYONE," he seethed. Vigilante took a step forward, opening his mouth to speak, but Noah shoved past him. The King did not know what he was going to say, anyway. He had never wanted his sons to know; he had worked so hard to keep it from them. It was in the past, or rather, it was supposed to be. Keese had been an exception.

The dark-saddled boy turned to face his father as he reached the front door. "I'm leaving. Don't follow me." Vigilante found his voice then. "Noah, no, stop. You don't understand." Once more, Noah growled at his father. "I understand perfectly, father. I hate you." With that, he turned and left the house. He would find his mother and his brother and say a brief good bye to each, though he would not explain. He could no longer stay in the kingdom.

Vigilante watched him go, feeling the heavy weight of the cruel world crashing down on him.

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