The rumors were strong, and he could not for the life of him remember where he had heard it. No, he could. Anann told him. She had met with his sister, his only full blooded sister. She was here and she had not bothered to show her face to her brother. He had been worried sick about her and she had not dared to come tell him everything was alright. On top of that, Anann told her that she had come and rescued their mother from their familial village. He could hardly believe the things he was hearing. Rescue? Their mother could hardly have been a victim in their home town, and she could have easily left the place. Their father's family might have given her dirty glances and treated her worse than anyone else, but she was still family. Even if all her blood ties were gone, and then their father probably brought his woman to the family. Perhaps rescue was appropriate.

Yet, he could hardly think properly. Liliya was here, back to where he could see her again. She was his last tie to home, for he never saw Silas at all. And she lived so close to them, to the north of their new pack. Why had she not come to see him? To see Silas? Why was she not there to tell him her story. He was her full blood brother, but she did not see the need to tell him that she was alright. The betrayal burned in his heart, welling up more feelings from so long ago. Anatoliy remembered the feelings in his chest when he read the note from his sister, and then the one from his father. And then he remembered the feeling of loneliness and loss of family. He had been alone for so long, especially with Keese stealing Anann from him and her keeping her distance to keep him safe. Anatoliy no longer felt alone, and felt full of pride at his new home and his mate. But when she said finding Liliya in Salsola, the man was full of conflicted emotions.

Salsola was not a place of refuge. It was a place for liars, that much he had heard. He knew little else. But something had to be keeping his sister there. He had finally managed to settle as best as he could in the town hall with his woman, and managed to store his boat for the winter months with success. As much as he wanted to borrow Rem and take the stallion on a hard race to the Salsola borders, he knew the horse belonged with Anann. He ought to have taken the boat, for if she was anything like him, she would be on the coast. But for now, information would be good. He needed to know where his sister was and how she was faring. Anatoliy would spare her his lashing words until he saw her.

Now, standing at the border, he called out for assistance, his call rather fervent, though it was not as loud as it could have been. It echoed out away from him, making his senses twitch with mild trepidation. He did not want to know the worst, but he was still afraid for the confrontation; he did not know how his emotions would churn. Best the entire territory not know why he was here. He needed a single person, and if that person happened to be his sister, all the better. Granted that Anann had told him was that his sister was fine, yet he still wanted to know for certain with his own eyes. And while Anann had managed to keep him busy, he could no longer wait. Anatoliy's love of family called to his very core and he had to know if his beloved sister was alright, and if everything was well. If his mother was here, then he was truly going to be greatly relieved. He had missed her so much.

446
sorry for delay, on vacation.

With the long months, years, of training and practice, the Russo set himself to waiting for someone to greet him. He was a stranger on the borders of a pack notorious for their behavior and ideals. They were a dangerous crew from what information he had managed to dig up. Despite that, the Russo knew that no one stood a chance against him if set his mind to the matter. Tall, hulking, and broad chested, he was a terror to anyone who dared cross him when his usual calm and peaceful demeanor was absent. And it was most definitely absent. The raging monster inside was cool and calm, more of a deadly quiet than a peaceful one. Anatoliy was no monster, not even with Keese. He had attacked the man on more than one occasion and he had attacked Niro in defense of his sister and his own hurt feelings. But in the end, he was the same Anatoliy. Right?

Anatoliy did not know who was coming to meet him, but he heard them and smelled them before they appeared. At first the smell was only the nondescript unvarying scent of the borders and the faint scent of a person approaching. Soon enough he could smell enough to set his heart racing. His sister had to be coming to meet him, even if she smelled different, changed. A hand went to steady himself against the broad trunk of an old tree, the rough bark beneath his palms soothing him and his racing heart. He did not know what to say, even though he had so much planned out for this moment. He wanted to scream, and still hold his sister close. He missed her and he felt the longing of family pound against his rib cage. Anann and he were family now. Someday, they might have young ones to carry on their names but for now it was just two. Anatoliy still longed for a family, his own. And part of his was coming to meet him.

Liliya appeared from wherever she had come, standing before him grown proud. There was something strange about her but he had no idea what it could have been. He shrugged it off as his coyote gold eyes stared at the woman, his only sister. Liz had been gone for a while now and that scar was old enough to no longer ache. "Liliya," he said softly as he gazed at her. She did not move at him though he swore he could see her shoulders quaking. All his anger, confusion, and betrayal raced out of him as he rushed at his sister to wrap her in his broad arms.

His anger seemed to have disappated from him, as though it were nothing but a flat puddle of water on a scorching day. How could he stay angry at his sister? She was his only one, especially his only sharing all his blood. Theirs was one and the same, though he had felt the bonds of family fade after so much time apart. Her leaving the family did not help to increase the feelings of family. Their father's departure had numbed him completely. For a time, there had been too much pain his heart where happiness ought to have been the only lodger. Those feelings had been like a shiv in his heart. But so much had been going on at that time that his head had felt so lost that he wondered if both his ears had remained atop his mopish head. But now, everything was settled, and the lasts bits of his torment were falling away from him like old discarded clothes.

She pulled away from his brotherly embrace and the Russo's joy was evident on his countenance. He was truly happy to see the woman before him. Brows furrowing, Anatoliy pursed his lips slightly. "I have been in her new pack, zhe vone called Casa di Cavalieri. Zhey are making it out to be like a brozherhood of warriors. I don't know, perhaps like zhe templars from zhe old stories?" The Russo had not been very interested in that aspect of his new home, preferring to focus on the thing he always focused on; fishing his heart out. There was little else in his life that he really enjoyed doing, other than spending any amount of delightful time with his beautiful woman. "Zhere is no home vizhout her for me anymore," he said, with a glimmer of sadness both in his low voice and in his golden eyes.

The man smiled broadly at his sister, though his look changed to shock and surprise. Their mother?! The Russo tightly gripped Liliya by the shoulders as he looked intently at her face. "Mozher?" he repeated, almost dumbly. He could scarcely believe her words. "You vent to get her? You got her? She's here?" he continued to repeat as though he were nothing more than a parrot cawing back other people's words. Verusha, their mother, was here? But, how could she not have come to him to tell him, so that he could see his mother. She had to have known how much it had weight on his conscience to have abandoned his mother as he had.

But Liliya would have none of that, as she asked for news of him. She even asked him to twirl, as though he were a young lady with a brand new Sunday dress. Shaking his head, bemused, the man knew that Liliya had seen all he had to offer. There was little new about him other than the happy glow. "Anann and I are mates now," he announced, rather aware that Liliya had missed that entire episode with Keese and the trouble they had gone through to be with each other. She ought not know now, not when it was pointless and in the past. "Fazher is gone," he said sadly, looking toward what he knew to be the sea that headed home, their old home. "He vent back to his first voman and returned to Russia vith her. He's left soon after you did."

Shaking his head once more, Anatoliy gripped his sister's shoulders. "But vhat about mozher? Is she vell? Vhere is she?" The fully grown male was like a child at the thought of his mother being so close by and accessible. He had missed her and he would have loved her advice, even if both of his parents had terribly instincts at times. Regardless, he loved his mother and missed her so terribly. It would mean an old wound could finally heal with the love only a mother could give.

The Russo gave a hearty laugh to his sister's comments. What was home without a Russo there? "Is no kind of home at all." Obviously this particular Russo did not believe such a thing, having found home without someone who was a Russo, and having lived with some level of happiness without any members of his family. Though, he had to admit, that maybe he himself counted as that Russo. Did Anann count, simply because she was mated to him? She did not take his surname and he had not asked her to do so, simply because she was an independent woman. Anann could do what she pleased, he knew what she was to him and he to her, and that was plenty enough for the undemanding Russo.

"Yes, I believe zhat. She is not afraid of very much, zhat woman," he said with much fondness in his low tones. He knew there were truly few things the woman was worried about, though he could name a few she was. His safety, especially when out on the sea without anyone else, was one of those. Another, he knew, was her ability to birth children. For some reason, she feared it all because of a strange coincidence. Her mother and her mother's mother had died in childbirth where both her mother and she, Anann, were born. Anatoliy refused to believe such a thing and tried hard to reassure her that such a thing would not happen while he was there. Thankfully - as guilty as he felt about that feeling - her first litter born of rape had failed and she lost the unborn young. That monster's spawn had no place in the world.

Sadness etched itself on the man's face as his sister's own look and tone fell. Gently, he touched her shoulder in an attempt to be endearing. "I don't know. He did not know vhere you vent. He zhought.. ve zhought zhat you vent off adventuring, not vent back zhere." He could only assume that the two of them had missed each other as they returned and left respectively. It was unfortunate that it was the last they would see of their father, and that greatly saddened the Russo. Their father was not a young man and time was his enemy. Would they truly never see their father again in this mortal plane? Heaving a heavy sigh, Anatoliy let his hand dropped as they resumed their walk to a place deeper in this strange kingdom.

The fact that his mother was so close sent butterflies into his stomach. His anxiety over this meeting had long since faded, having settled into the fact he would not see her ever again. But it seemed that fate was not kind in that regard and the fluttering feeling of nervousness bubbled unpleasantly in his belly. He had enough silence to truly mull over the things his sister had said, as their conversation stilled and they seemed to wait for something. Golden eyes took in the strange rigging that someone had constructed spanning the gap between the mainland and an island. It was of a hefty make, not made of twine. It was a ferry system, that much the Russo understood.

Without a word, the two siblings watched as someone across the watery gap came closer on the ferry raft. Heart racing as he watched the brown figure get clearer and clearer, Anatoliy almost grabbed his sister's hand. But that display of affection was not for two grown adults to display, especially in this strange, savage pack. Who knew what they would think.

Their mother appeared before them, and the hulking Russo furrowed his brows at the woman before him. She gathered up the mushrooms that had tumbled free of a sack. The glint of a golden nose ring caught his eye and his look grew confused. Why on earth would his mother ever get that sort of piercing? It was unlike her. Anatoliy put it from his mind as the joy in his heart welled up in his throat. Verusha did not recognize one of her sons, and the Russo could not help but feel some of that joy falter. "Mama?" he said, tentative, as though she would bolt if startled.

No, she said. No. He called her his mother and she said no. Anatoliy's ears flattened instantly, like a child who was reprimanded. It felt that like, certainly, with his own mother not recognizing him. Verusha did not even raise her eyes up to see who had called her his mother. No. That was all. Subconsciously, he held his clenched over his heart as he waited to see if she truly had forgotten the son who had stayed with her the longest in Russian. He was the one who had chosen to stay with her to keep her company, even though he disappeared away from her. It was entirely an accident; he had not been running away from her. But why did she not remember him at a glance? He had not changed that much in so much time, had he? He was the same color, same everything. The scars on his face were new, given by a Courtier, though he was still the same underneath. Golden eyes and brown coloration should have been a dead give away to the mother that her son stood before her with pained eyes.

Liliya interceded and directed the woman's eyes to Anatoliy. His sister seemed a little bit too harsh with their mother, who was clearly unwell for some reason or another. He would ask her what had happened later. For now, he was too nervous to even think more than that plan. Verusha looked at him, though her eyes did not seem to truly see as they ought to have. It took her a long time, simply staring at him, or so it felt like to him. His breath had caught as his mother slowly began to recognize her second son.

The confusion changed and was replaced by a much more familiar and much more welcome emotion. Verusha yelped out his name and took his face into his hands. He bent over easily, making it easier for their shorter mother to reach him at his towering height. His smile was broad and there were unshed tears in his eyes as he watched his mother's eyes fill with recognition and affection. She pulled him into a hug, despite being so much shorter than her pillar of a son. Anatoliy wrapped his arms around his small mother, keeping her close to his heart as he fought the tears in his eyes. "Mama..," he muttered softly as she pulled away from her son.

Verusha swiped at his nose, and the big Russo found he could not avoid the motion. She hit his nose, though he had moved enough to make it a light blow. Instantly, a hand went up to the spot his mother hit, as though he truly had been a bad pup in need of a reprimanding. "Mozher, I.. it..," he fumbled as the woman suddenly changed her entire mood again as she rubbed at his nose gently where she had hit it. Anatoliy found the bag of mushrooms exchanged from Liliya's hands and into his and he just stared at it dumbly. His mother seemed to think he was here to stay, which he knew he was not. Liliya knew he was not here to stay. He had a mate to go home to, he could hardly stay here with his mother and catch up. He could, for a little while, of course.

"Mozher, I can't stay for very long." Anatoliy's voice was dejected, though he knew there was no place for him here. Liliya should not have been here either, and he wondered why she chose to be here of all places. "I have somevone vaiting for me at home," he said subtly, wondering if whatever was afflicting his mother would prevent her from truly understanding him. His golden gaze lifted up to Liliya, who had offered fishing. He merely nodded, brows furrowing. Liliya ran to get the supplies from some storage area, and Anatoliy found himself still holding the bag of mushrooms. "Mozher, I can try to visit."

Verusha looked at her son with a reprimanding look, as though he was lying to her. "Vhat do you mean? This is our home now. You don't need to be goingk anywhere." She did not seem to understand that he had other commitments now, and he was unsure of how to proceed. Dejected, he walked to his sister, who was gathering the things. "I can't stay here," he told his sister, who surely would understand his situation much better than their mother. What was wrong with her? "Fishing and a meal, yes, but I have Anann at home," he added, hands still clinging to the bag, as though it was a comfort to him in this awkward situation.