Moonspear words are weapons

I know it says any wolf that's not apart of Moonspear is trespassing if they have a thread in this forum but there's no prefix for Moonspear borders outside of the pack forum or in it anymore (and I'm afraid y'all won't see it if I post in in the Great Bear Wilderness forum) so yeah. Tevinter is at the borders (also yay for potential reunion thread?!) :D.

Tevinter, several days after his confrontation with the bear, had yet to return to Jade Fern Grove, still trying to figure out what he was going to tell his parents, whom would no doubt notice the three slash wounds across his muzzle even if he alternated between letting them uncovered (as he had them now), and leaving them covered with his extremely basic (albeit helpful) knowledge of healing. Healing was Swift's forte but Tevinter knew just enough to keep himself from getting an infection or potentially dying. Avoiding death was something that Tevinter was surprisingly good at, even though three times now he should have been little more than a decaying corpse. There were those that would claim he was blessed (by what, he wondered?) but in truth Tevinter knew that it was more than likely just a long running streak of extremely good luck. 

Tevinter figured that while he had left on the guise of going on an outrider mission he might as well stick to his word and actually gather what information he could. Scope out the Southern parts of the Teekon Wilds for his father and aunt who respectively led the Grove. Still, he would have to think of something to explain his new ...trophies, because he didn't think admitting that he had provoked a grizzly bear would go over too well. It could have cost him his life. He knew this — had known it prior but he'd wanted vengeance, so fixated upon being the hero that he'd allowed pride and greed to consume him. Yet, it was not death that Tevinter feared. It was losing those that he cared about, his family.

He had lost one already. Both in the physical sense and in his memories. No more could he recall faces, voices, or even really names. He'd been too young, and as he began to see Scimitar and Bazi and their litter as his family even more of his biological family had begun to fade until they seemed like a dream. Like they had not existed in the first place and he'd always been Scimitar and Bazi's, instead of their adopted son. His steps slowed as he drew nearer to scent borders, conscious of them, though he took a moment to pause and study the towering peak. It's tip stretched up to the heavens, grasping towards the clear night sky littered with stars, towards the moon in all of her glory. 

After he'd gotten his aesthetic fill he moved closer, though left more than an acceptable distance between their borders and himself, knowing that at the doorstep of another pack respect was always to be given. Tevinter's howl rose into the sky, alerting the Moonspear's wolves to his diplomatic presence; though admittedly diplomat was a bit of a stretch. He was more or less just a curious Outrider eager to appease the Grove's leadership and earn his apprenticeship.

:O

There was a howl, and although Floki was still a youth, he pricked his ears and moved to answer it. Moonspear was as much his as it was Charon's and Amekaze's, and he knew that his older brother appreciated the effort he put into taking care of their new packlands. He moved with confidence along the rocky ridges, following a path that had been well-worn over the last few weeks; it felt as though he had called the mountain home for much longer than it had really been.

Floki's paws hit flat ground and he accelerated, loping through the thick outcropping of trees that stood at the peak's base. Some of the branches had lost their leaves, but others promised to hold onto them throughout the winter, providing a patchwork of shadows and moonlight. Through the greenery, he spotted a flash of silver and began to draw himself up. The Xi was tall and lanky, since he spent most of his time traveling and exploring rather than sparring or training to fight, but he still liked to think he cut an impressive figure.

He emerged from the treeline and his breath hitched in his throat as his gaze landed on the caller. The wolf was very nearly a mirror image of himself, right down to his sandy legs. He was at first bewildered as he came to a halt, hackles bristling, but his mind slowly caught up with him. Jorunn. While his long-lost twin might have forgotten his past, his memory warped by trauma, Floki thought often of Jorunn -- though seeing him in the flesh made his blood run cold. He had watched the sea carry his brother away and had thought him dead; how had he survived?

After a long pause, Floki spoke, his voice cracking with uncertainty. "Jorunn?"

When the howl went up, Charon was just patrolling and so he was quick to get his feet moving in the howl's direction. With how fresh their claim was, Charon was alert when it came to outsiders, and although rude trespassers usually didn't howl he wanted to make sure that he went to greet them just in case something went awry. Tail was lifted and head carried proudly as Charon trotted on towards the howl's direction, trailing along the edges of Moonspear's forested slopes to get there.

Charon left the trees when he came near enough to see a figure emerge in the distance. Much to his surprise, he saw Flóki standing there. His dominance instantly shed off his body as he noticed this, feeling confused and weirded out now, looking at his brother, yet it also didn't look like his brother at all. "Fuck," Charon hissed when he noticed that Flóki's nose was wounded. The call hadn't sounded like Flóki, though, although now that he thought of it, it had carried a resemblance to Flóki's voice; but it was far from the same at the same time. Maybe his voice was so different because he'd gotten brutally assaulted by some thing or another. Charon's heartbeat quickened and he felt oddly panicked, something that didn't happen to him often, as he rushed towards the figure in the distance.

As he approached, Charon called out to his brother: "Flóki, the fuck happened to your —" And at that moment he drew near enough to see another Flóki just around the corner of a bunch of stray trees sticking out from the forest's treeline. Charon halted, ears splayed in confusion as he watched between the twin brothers, and then it clicked. And suddenly, it felt as though a miracle had happened and brought his brother back to him... Somehow. In a rare moment, Charon was lost for words, and so he just stood and stared as Flóki was the one to bring forth their brother's name in question.

<3 @Floki and @Charon edited to accommodate for shadow posting. ;p

Tevinter was not kept waiting long, which was something that he valued habitually. Besides of figuratively dying of boredom while he was forced to wait on someone in a pack to answer his call, Tevinter found it to be disgraceful (and rude, but you know). Keeping anyone, stranger or no, waiting at one's borders gave Tevinter an impression that the pack was weak and thus spread too thin, or that their wardens were lazy fothermuckers to care (this was when the idea to infiltrate and raid often came to his mind when he played such scenarios out in his mind). This towering mount's wolves had diligence and that automatically garnered some points of respect from Kjalarr. There was movement, easily discerned by the shadows of the night as the lighter figure stepped from them, lit by the touch of the moon's sweet beams.

An sense of familiarity washed over him, his search to place why in vain; for the moment. Eyes of caribbean blue with silver around his pupils studied his fellow youth for those moments of silence. He was graced with a coat of platinum silver such as Tevinter himself, even with the stockings of which the true color of warm sand was leeched into a smoke gray to the color blind outrider. Jorunn. A sense of alarm washed over Tevinter then, confusion partnered with a sense of disorientation. How? How did this other youth know his name? It was not the right name, but it was the name that Tevinter had been given at birth. 

He had chosen a new one, because Jorunn had died. He had drowned in the trauma of what he had endured, withering away until he was no more. No. He wasn't Jorunn anymore. There was nothing of Jorunn left; and Tevinter had chosen a name that felt as it fit him because Jorunn had ceased to hold meaning for him. It was just something to call him, but like the word 'boy' it held nothing personal. No meaning besides being an noun and there had been no sense to hold onto it. He knew this youth. Of course he did, he realized. It was the memory of Floki that Tevinter had held onto for the longest, his other half. Their's was a bond ...or rather a spiritual connection that could not be broken. “Floki,” The name was breathless, as if it got caught in his throat. 

Yet, despite the relief at seeing his twin alive, Tevinter took a step back. “I...I am not Jorunn. Not anymore. I'm...not the same brother you knew.” He had been raised by a different family, and ...and he'd forgotten them. Almost all of them. It was not an honorable thing, but as he had as a young child, he did not wish to lie to his twin. Tevinter's muzzle parted to say something else, though the words were lost when another approached, a few feet away, calling him Floki and beginning to ask if the trail off of words were of any indication, what happened to his muzzle (the question Tevinter was dreading answering when he got back home, admittedly). As the older male joined him and his twin, Tevinter fell into an awkward sort of silence, staring between the two, wondering if his twin would convene to the other (whom apparently knew him but Tevinter was having trouble placing a name to the vaguely familiar face) the truth. That he wasn't the same.

There were a long few seconds in which Floki wondered if Jorunn remembered him. But then he saw the spark of familiarity in his twin's eyes, and he felt himself relax. Even though it had been months since they had seen each other, there was a comfort in Jorunn's presence, like everything was right with the world.

But when Jorunn spoke, it caused Floki's brows to knit into a frown. "I...I am not Jorunn. Not anymore. I'm...not the same brother you knew," he said, and Floki shook his head slowly. How could this be possible? He would always be Jorunn Eitri, son of Ragnar and Thistle Cloud, brother of Floki, Kaylan, and Ragna. Floki, who had been lucky enough to escape the bear attack without any injuries, couldn't understand the turmoil that his twin had been through and the circumstances that had led him to shed the skin of his former life.

"What do you mean?" he asked, but his words were drowned out by a shout. He looked up sharply, his gaze coming to land on Charon. The freckled Alpha seemed at first to be confused, addressing Jorunn as Floki before realizing that they were both present. Blinking at Charon, he licked his lips and then uttered two words: "He's alive."

It didn't take long for things to click in Charon's mind when he came into view of both wolves, catching the tail end of their conversation and having Flóki confirm what he already suspected. It was so strange and surrealistic for this to happen; first Osprey, and now Jorunn stood before him. It was almost as though Kevlyn and Liyaní might show up on their doorstep tomorrow. Maybe they'd bring Levi, and maybe even his father... Although he was pretty sure his mother would remain torn apart by a bear. Still, he remembered that Ragnar had said they were dead, and that was what had made Charon easily believe wolves like Jorunn and Osprey were dead, too. But they weren't. Jorunn stood right in front of him.

"The fuck you mean, 'you're not Jorunn'?!" Charon said, eyes narrowing as he looked around, almost as though expecting other wolves to be shadowing Jorunn. "Of course you are! Man, I can't believe you're back, little bro!" Charon's expression softened then and he closed the gap between himself and Jorunn, galloping up to his brother and bumping his head against Jorunn's neck, if he would let Charon, in a short but affectionate gesture. Jorunn was back, and there was no way in hell Charon was going to let anything tear the twins apart again.

Tevinter supposed that he understood Floki's confusion, for in many ways it mirrored his own. Only, their circumstances of what bore their individual confusion were quite different. Floki, and the other, whose name Tevinter could still not draw to the forefront of his mind (or perhaps didn't want to) did not understand that he wasn't the same. Because of what he suffered, and in part because of how Scimitar and Bazi had raised him. They had played their own part in shaping him into Tevinter, in giving him direction and a family. He owed them everything for there had been nothing that had said the Frostfur's had to take him in. With four mouths to feed of their own they hadn't needed a fifth ...and yet they had done it anyway. “I can't really explain it,” Tevinter concluded that they could not understand because they hadn't suffered as he had. They had not been (as far as he was aware, anyway) at death's doorstep twice (well actually three times now but the third was wholly his own doing but that was entirely besides the point). “I am called Tevinter now, sometimes I use the alias Kjalarr,” but it's significance to their supposed bloodline and his viking heritage was not to his knowledge.

“I have shed Jorunn because...it's not who I am anymore. The incident it...I washed up on a shore and walked for so long until my paws hurt and my stomach hurt,” Because he'd been able to hunt small rodents but nothing of true substantial. “I was taken in by Scimitar and Bazi Frostfur,” For the sake of not wanting to sound entirely insensitive he did not outright call them family; and yet they were. “They raised me as one of their own even though they had four kids already. They didn't have too but they did, and I don't know I felt for a long time that the name Jorunn had lost it's meaning to me.” Perhaps that was insensitive, but at the same time Tevinter could barely wrap his mind around his own emotions, let alone try to cushion theirs.

“Is that why no one looked for me? Why no one asked around at the packs? Because you all assumed I was dead?” For a moment, Tevinter was angry. He wasn't sure which option he found worse: thinking they hadn't really cared about him at the first place, or that they would sooner label him dead then bother to send wolves to search for him; and regardless it had hurt. Scimitar had sent the entire pack after Bazi, Allure and Swift. For them he would have torn the world apart, Tevinter did not doubt. Perhaps these comparisons were not fair of him to draw, and yet Tevinter could not help it.

“I'm not...I'm not the same, small child I was. I'm not the child you knew.” Of course he wasn't. He was nearly a “man” now; and five months was a long time to be away from his biological family. A family that he acknowledged, as when he allowed the older male — his brother — to close the distance and give him an affectionate bump against his neck. Did they truly want that heathen to resurface? Arrogant? Rebellious (perhaps even disrespectful)? The Jarl's son that fancied himself as some sort of heir to a throne of blood and bone? Those tendencies might still linger in moderation but even so Jorunn was not who he wanted to be seen as; even if, in theory, he would give into the call of his blood he did not want his Ragnar's legacy. He wanted his own. “This isn't this place I...we were born,” Tevinter corrected himself to include Floki, the unspoken question apparent in the words he did speak.

In classic Charon style, the Alpha addressed his younger brother brazenly. He strode right up to him, nudging Jorunn's shoulder by way of greeting. Floki, however, refrained from approaching, his gaze still fixed uncertainly on his mirror image. He narrowed his eyes, listening as the wolf formerly known as Jorunn attempted to explain what had happened to him, and why he no longer used his birth name.

Tevinter -- Kjalarr. The words sounded foreign to Floki's ears; he didn't like them. They didn't seem to fit. But he remained silent while Jorunn -- Tevinter, he corrected himself mentally -- detailed the events of the last few months. A pack had taken him in and raised him as their own. Floki felt relief coupled with jealousy. Who were these wolves -- Scimitar and Bazi Frostfur? They weren't his real family, though he supposed he should be thankful that they had cared for his brother.

The next words out of Tevinter's mouth caused Floki to bristle, however. He accused his siblings of not looking for him, of leaving him to die. "We did look for you," Floki replied quickly, his voice low and defensive. He had spent countless hours retracing his steps on that beach; he had been far too young to leave Stavanger Bay to search, but he knew Charon had done so and had come up empty-handed. Thistle Cloud, too, had looked -- in spite of her grief. He exhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself to calm as Tevinter asked a veiled question regarding their location. Floki deferred to Charon; the plan to move to Moonspear had been his, so he anticipated that the newly-crowned Alpha would provide a better response than he could.

It didn't take long for Charon's mood to turn from surprise to relief to bitterness. If Flóki was irritated by something, anyone could predict that Charon would be worse. He wasn't sure how to react: whether to think that these wolves Jorunn mentioned — Bazi and Scimitar Frostfur, wolves of whom Charon'd never heard before — had taken him from them, hadn't even looked for his real family at all, or to think that Jorunn was just an ungrateful little git who'd traded his birth family for some adoptive family and hadn't looked back once. Maybe he thought a little of both. They hadn't looked enough? Hah! His new family should've turned every stone to find his real family, and Charon felt not an ounce of gratefulness towards them. They deserved to see their pack raided as far as Charon was concerned, and Jorunn's place was here, no matter how he felt.

It would be better for all parties involved if Charon would decide to be the bigger wolf. He'd done so with Nishu, and had found a weak spot that he could press eventually to show that he was right. All he needed to do was keep his cool. "You insolent petty little child!" Charon spat, unable to stick to his plan for even just a second when he recounted all the things Jorunn had just accused them of. "I turned every stone in the god damned wilds for you! And what about your new family, huh? Why didn't they look for your real family? Maybe because they were too busy fucking stealing you from us?! They knew you lived near the ocean, since that's what you came out of! Shouldn't have been too hard to find the only coastal pack in the area, except they didn't even fucking try! And here you stand, accusing us of not looking for you and putting Asshole and Bitch Fuckfur on a fucking pedestal when they're the ones that should've brought you back to us 'cause they knew where we lived all along!" And breathe out. Charon's hackles had risen and his tail curled over his back, twitching tensely as he stared at Jorunn, his long lost brother (well, one of them, anyway). It was weird how identical he looked to Flóki, and how many fond memories Charon had of playing with Jorunn when he was little, and yet nothing of either of those attachments Charon had were found back when looking at this wolf.

Charon had intended to take Jorunn in on the spot just moments ago, glad to have his brother back, but now he was not so sure. He felt as though Jorunn'd been brainwashed by his new 'family' and felt a dark desire for revenge brewing inside of him. "We moved because our pack was too small to fend for itself come winter after all that happened to us, so I did what I had to do to save my family — our family." He narrowed his eyes, finding back some of his cool, at least for long enough to let Jorunn get in some words, if he had any smart-ass comments and accusations left.

Apparently, not well enough, Tevinter thought, yet he stilled his tongue. He was taken aback when Charon spat the insulting words at him, ears lowering back as they hit him like a tidal wave before he found his figurative footing and puffed his chest in indigence. He was the petty, insolent child here?  Perhaps it had not been right of him to accuse when he didn't know, yet that was also his line of defense. He hadn't know because, obviously, they had not found him. “Clearly not all of them,” Because he could call himself Scimitar and Bazi's son but he was a true Ragnarsson at heart. It was not something he could turn off with the switch of a name. “Do you even hear yourself? Steal me from you? They didn't take me from the borders, they found me starving and took me in,” Some older brother he had. Some Alpha, who to Tevinter was acting more like an insolent child then the one he accused Tevinter of being. “I was a child. Two months old, alone and scared. They found me and sheltered me when they could have left me to die.” Yet, Tevinter felt like he was wasting his breath, like his defense would only be twisted into what Charon, clearly, wanted to hear.

“They didn't know anything! They didn't know where I came from and I couldn't even give them a name,” He'd only been two months old — he was lucky he'd even managed to stay alive during the time between washing up on the shore and Scimitar finding him. “Bazi wanted to try to find you, to take me back,” It had been Bazi that had been the most against it at first. “but I was so afraid of the bear.” that he hadn't wanted to go back. To not feel safe within his own home? That was no home at all. He was fuming inside, a thousand things he could have, and wanted so desperately to throw his older brother's way but he held his tongue. Silence would be his greatest weapon here, even if Charon was being entirely ungrateful to the wolves that had saved Tevinter's life. “I was wrong to assume that you did not look for me,” Pride was always the hardest sin to swallow, and it fought the entire way. In the end though: they were both making assumptions about things they didn't know. “I only knew that no one had came for me; and I had waited for a time. Scimitar and Bazi are good wolves, that had my limited knowledge to go off of. Even if Bazi would have ignored my waking nightmare of the bear, there is no guarantee she'd have found you.”

It was fair, even if Tevinter took personal offense to Charon's insult towards the Frostfur's. Wolves that were good and his family too. Blood had nothing to do with it; and if Tevinter was aware of Charon's own adoption he might have turned those things against him. “You?” Last Tevinter had been aware his mother had been the one in charge, though truly it had been the scarred man he looked so much like that had led. The Viking. So, what had happened to their mother? He did not remember her being the type to take orders (at least she had always given him right back what he'd dished out to her). “I don't know what you want me to say. I've changed. The bear changed me. I'm not asking you to take me back, I'm not asking you to even accept who I became.” Because if this was how it was going to be Tevinter didn't want to return. He would not take the brunt of Charon's petty and insolent attitude simply because he was Alpha and older. Tevinter'd never been good with authority even when he was younger and apparently this rang true still.

Tevinter spared a look at his twin then, taking in a deep breath and letting it out in a soft exhale, wincing slightly as the movement of sinew over his muzzle pulled at the wounds. He hadn't known they'd relocated (still wasn't sure he knew his way back to Stavanger Bay) but he realized his mistake now. “I was just trying to earn my outrider trade.” He hadn't expected an extremely sour family reunion. “I'm sorry Floki, for everything. You're still my other half, though. Nothing really feels right without you.” The empty feeling, like something vital had been missing had grown numb, so used to feeling it as Tevinter had been. It felt full now, if not without it's complications. Yet, Tevinter had felt that he had to communicate it. Because he could change his name to match his personality change, his cusp of adulthood Floki was still and would always be his twin and in a way Tevinter would always need him. Charon's presence wasn't forgotten, but Tevinter had felt like his twin needed addressed too.

Although there was hurt and anger bubbling within Floki, it stayed just below the surface. Charon, however, was much more explosive; he wasted no time in letting Tevinter know just how he felt. Floki winced visibly as Charon started to yell, though he soon found confidence in his brother's words. He was right -- why hadn't Tevinter's new parents tried to find his real family? Obviously, a pup that washed up from the ocean came from somewhere.

But at the end of the day, that was all in the past. There was nothing that any of them could do to change that. Some of the fight went out of Tevinter momentarily, as he admitted that he was wrong to accuse Floki and Charon of not trying to find him. Floki, too, relaxed, though his tail remained rigid and he still hadn't moved to close the gap between himself and his twin. He hadn't said anything since Charon's outburst and Tevinter's equally heated reply, instead absorbing all of the information and internalizing it.

He continued to listen as Tevinter blamed the bear for his transformation, then mentioned that this impromptu reunion had come about simply because he was training to become an outrider. Floki hesitated before responding; even though it had been months since they had seen each other, there was obviously still some sort of connection between them. Both were interested in the scouting trade; both could still acknowledge that they were each other's other half. He sighed.

"We've all changed," he said stiffly. It was true; otherwise, he and Charon would still be stuck at Stavanger Bay, struggling to survive as winter drew nearer. Things had to change in order for life to progress, he knew...but this was more painful somehow. He licked his lips, one ear tilting towards Charon and the other remaining focused on Tevinter. "I'm an outrider, too," he finally replied; though he didn't say it outright, he was agreeing with what had already been said. Nothing really feels right without you.

Charon's eyes narrowed further when Jorunn went on about the so-called facts. It tore him apart to know that Jorunn didn't even want to return to them, and fueled his anger further. Maybe because he rightfully believed what he said and thought, or maybe because he just wanted to push Jorunn as far away from himself and Flóki as he could to protect the pair of them, to sever any emotional attachments they might have. To think that the boy before him looked so much like Flóki, and yet was so very different in every imaginable way. Charon didn't believe for one second that 'Bazi' had looked all over the place for their pack. He wasn't even sure he believed Jorunn, being tiny and severed from his family, had actually wanted to not-return-home. What kind of child would not want to return home? Had he really not told his new 'family' that he'd come from an ocean pack? The little traitor.

Even though Jorunn admitted that he was wrong to assume he shouldn't have made false assumptions, Charon cut him no slack. He remained furious, now both at Jorunn as well as these adoptive parents of his. They'd taken him in, yes, to grow him into the strong and healthy boy he was now, to add to their pack's numbers. Perhaps if Stavanger Bay had flourished in Jorunn's absence things would be different, but there were two things that fueled Charon's rage more than anything else: the Bay's diminishing due to their numbers, and Thistle Cloud's depression over her lost loved ones — Jorunn had been the straw that broke the camel's back.

At the shocked 'you', Charon bared his teeth into a wry grimace. "Yes, me. Our mother fell into depression after you decided you were too much of a coward to return home." Jorunn still looked like a viking, like Flóki, but every word that poured out of his mouth betrayed his coward's heart to Charon. The bear had changed him. He'd been too scared of the bear to return home. "My real mom was killed by a bear in front of my own fucking eyes, Jorunn. I can see why you gave yourself a new name, because there's no Loðbrók I know that would abandon their family in lieu of fear, that'd be the coward you just explained yourself to be. Yeah, you've changed alright. The little boy I used to know would love going on adventures, and he loved his family more than anything in the world, wouldn't let some shit bear come between us, ever." Charon's voice cracked up a little at the end — he hadn't intended to show any emotions, but thinking about Jorunn's past and the decisions that he and his adoptive family had made, thinking about how he'd just given up on his rightful family, twisted the dagger that had already been thrust into Charon's heart.

Another twist to the dagger was added when Flóki piped up, saying that he was an outrider, too, trying to reach out to his brother one last time — his brother, who was in turn trying his best to burn all the bridges and who didn't look one bit like he intended to come back and live here with his real family. "You belong here, Jorunn," Charon said, reaching out one last time. "So bury Tevinter Frostfur and just come back here with us, and with mom. She misses you so much." She needs you. And the part of Charon that had been pushing Jorunn away by insults and rage was now the very same that tried to reel him back in; not for himself, but for Flóki and Thistle Cloud, because he knew they needed him. A part of Charon knew that there was no use detaching the brainwashed 'Tevinter' from these Frostfurs, for he was brainwashed already, had been away from the Loðbróks for too long... But there was a tiny part sticking out right now that tried, reaching out a paw before that door would close forever.

Tevinter could not help the bristle of his hackles, at Charon calling him a coward. For being a child. Terrified. It was a cruel thing to call Tevinter, like calling a small, niave child who was afraid of the monsters in his closet a coward. It wasn't something that someone did. Typically, an older brother would open up the closet door to prove that there was nothing there and nothing to be frightened of. That kind of sympathy was not afforded towards Tevinter by Charon, who claimed to be his older brother. Some older brother, and this annoyance was only strengthened when Charon then threw his own 'pity me' story out there, as if their situations were even related. Charon might have seen a bear kill his mother but he hadn't been the one in the position of his mother. To be the one the bear wanted to eat (for it was lucky that Tevinter had gotten away)? And...it did not help that Tevinter's eye sight was not “normal”, but for the sake of avoiding further ridicule he kept his muzzle clamped shut, tightly; and not without struggle.

Charon then threw out a name (Tevinter supposed that was what his last name was/had been) and added that he wasn't one because he was a coward, because he a small, defenseless child had abandoned his family because of his fear. Tevinter did not see it as abandoning. He saw it was self preservation. It was not that he did not want the comfort of his mother, or the presence of his siblings but that he'd been so traumatized, confident that the bear would find him and kill him even with them between it and him. The boy Charon recalled was not the boy that Tevinter remembered being. Perhaps he'd loved his family, but he'd snap at his siblings in attempt to keep the food for himself, he lorded himself over them, even his own mother. He was a little asshole. “I'm no coward,” Tevinter ground out, inclining his muzzle, though the fresh wounds were visible enough. A coward would not have picked a fight with a slumbering grizzly. Perhaps he was a bit of a reckless idiot but he was no coward. “I have conquered my fears.” Because that was what he was at his heart: a conqueror.

“You of all people should understand my situation, on the account of the bear and the family that went out of their way to take care of you. The adults that took you in, helpless and young as you were. They could have turned you out, could have left you to die,” And, honestly, that wasn't too much of a stretch to Vikings who sometimes left their own children to the Wilds to die. “but they didn't, just as Scimitar and Bazi didn't.” Yet, he was just repeating himself over and over, knowing that it was futile.

When Floki piped up that he was an Outrider too, Tevinter felt a small smile tug at the corner's of his lips. “Maybe we could go on some missions together?” Because despite the current tension between Charon and him Tevinter hoped to rekindle the relationship he'd once had with his twin. The plea, the offer Charon made, seemed to Tevinter to make no sense given his recent spew of insults and bitterness. In truth, Charon himself had given Tevinter no reason to want to join but he spared a glance at his twin and felt a decision rise like a lead weight in his heart. “If you would have me, I would work on trying to re-learn what I have lost of who I am.” He would say goodbye to Scimitar and Bazi. He owed them that much; providing Charon's (still bizarre) offer even continued to stand.

There was a lot of confusion; emotions were running high and words were flung carelessly back and forth. One minute, Tevinter and Charon were spitting insults at one another -- and the next, Charon was offering him a place in the pack, and it seemed as though Tevinter was considering it. It was all too much for Floki to handle. He felt himself shutting down and wanting to withdraw. His paws were itching to carry him far away from his two brothers -- his twin, his own blood, and his adopted sibling who had been there for him through it all.

Above all, a single question rose above the turmoil in Floki's mind. "What about Bazi and Scimitar?" he asked, leveling Tevinter with his gaze. It wasn't meant to be a dig, but he couldn't keep his tone from souring as he spoke. He was genuinely curious; if these Frostfur wolves had taken such good care of Tevinter, then why was he willing to leave them now, to join Moonspear's ranks? Especially if he didn't truly remember the connection that he had once had with his biological family?

He glanced at Charon, then back at the wolf formerly known as Jorunn. He wanted more than anything to have his twin back in his life, but it all felt so strange. Tevinter wasn't Jorunn -- so was he really who Floki needed him to be?

If Jorunn was expecting sympathy, he was going to be disappointed; Charon wasn't feeling an ounce of empathy towards the boy. In particular because he saw the pain that it had caused Thistle and Flóki to see him vanished. Heck, even Ragna and Kaylan had been hit by it, and maybe it was the very reason that they were now gone. Jorunn seemed angry at Charon, which to Charon seemed completely irrational. If anyone deserved to be righteously angry, it was him and Flóki, and definitely not 'Tevinter'.

More words were thrown at Charon, but it only felt like more empty sentiments that were trying to further twist the dagger that had been inserted into his heart. He was going to fight tooth and nail to defend the wolves he loved; and Jorunn no longer encompassed those wolves after he had deserted him and his family. The fact he compared how Charon had been taken in by Thistle and Ragnar to how the Frostfurs had taken him from his only infuriated Charon further. A low growl rumbled in his throat and his tail twitched furiously when Jorunn drew the comparison. His own parents were dead, whereas Jorunn's mother and family had been at home, mourning him, falling apart.

Of course, he hadn't been here to witness that. He didn't know how it had been. Charon was about done with this; he wanted to find the Frostfurs and give them what was coming to them, one way or another. He was a viking, and would not let what was his — his family — be taken. As soon as Jorunn had left, he would ask Flóki and Wildfire to comb the wilds for the Frostfurs while he devised a plan. He wasn't yet decided whether or not he'd tell Ame. She might disagree, and perhaps it would be easier if she didn't find out. He wasn't sure yet what he'd do when he had the Frostfurs. Maybe take one of their children. Charon would not rest until they were punished.

Something weird happened while these vengeful thoughts danced and multiplied in the young Alpha's head. Jorunn suddenly gave in, saying he would take up Charon's last ditch effort offer (one he hadn't even considered Jorunn might take) and join them, learn what he had lost, make up for the time he was gone. Charon's expression was shocked, and Flóki asked the question that was on the forefront of his mind. What about the Fuckfurs? He looked sharply at his distanced brother, waiting with bated breath for his answer.

There was no response to his offer, to either of them, and Tevinter was unsure of how to take the silence from both his twin and his older brother. Still, he supposed from the latter silence was preferable to insults. Insults that, naturally, Tevinter saw as petty and undeserved. It wasn't fair that he was taking the beating that he was, yet he stood stalwart against it. He didn't accept it, of course, but frankly, he was growing tired of arguing about it. Especially with someone whom he thought out of anyone would have understood; and someone who was an Alpha. It made Tevinter question the wisdom of that choice mentally: but perhaps he understood leadership and adulthood to be a different thing then the wolves of the Moonspear did.

A question was posed to him by Floki, and Tevinter turned his attention back to his twin, ears cupping forth to pick up the words his twin spoke. It was a fair question and thus Tevinter answered it with honesty. “I will tell them the truth, that I've found my birth family and that I desire to try to rekindle what I have lost,” Because though he wasn't too sure what to think of his “older brother”, it wasn't a lie. He would give it an effort, if for no one's sake but Floki's (and perhaps his mother's); and if he could not resist butting heads with Charon there was nothing (providing he was even welcome anymore) that said he had to stay. “I will tell them goodbye. I am an adult,” not technically but he was close enough that he could make his own decisions in his life. “and I trust them to respect my decision.” Little did Tevinter know that it would be much more simple than he'd imagined, for the Grove was on the cusp of disbanding and the Frostfur's would soon take to their family out of the Wilds.

Surprisingly, Charon didn't have anything to add; there was only expectant silence from the oldest brother as he and Floki awaited a response from Tevinter. Floki glanced at Charon, but then quickly shifted his gaze back to his twin as soon as he began to speak. The traces of anger were gone from his voice and he addressed Floki's question in a rational manner, expressing his desire to rejoin his biological family with the blessing of his caretakers.

Despite the excitement that Floki felt at the prospect of having a small piece of the puzzle replaced, he was still unsure. What was Tevinter really like? If he wasn't Jorunn, then who was he? How would he fit into what was left of their family? It had been Thistle Cloud, Charon, and Floki for so long that it was hard for the boy to imagine what it would be like to have another sibling. He wanted more than anything for Tevinter to stay, but he was afraid.

"I would like that," Floki finally said, and he meant it, despite his misgivings. The road to recovery would be as rocky as Moonspear's slopes, but there was still hope for the Lodbrok family. He looked to Charon again, knowing that it would ultimately be up to him to make the final decision on Tevinter's future.

Charon was a little wary of Jorunn's sudden change in demeanour. He wondered if this was some sort of trick and if the Frostfurs wanted him to infiltrate here, but then again, why would they? Charon's rationality took over and he realised that there was no reason they could have to spy here. It wasn't like they had any more pups to steal, after all. Jorunn said that he'd talk to the Frostfurs and tell them he wanted to rekindle his relations with his birth family. Charon was still recovering from how quickly this meeting had turned around, but his tail dropped and the hair along his neck and back flattened as the tension dripped from him.

There was a lot of breached trust that needed to be mended, but Charon couldn't leave his little brother out at the front door. He couldn't cut down the bridge that his brother was trying to throw out to Flóki and Charon. And more importantly, he couldn't take this from Thistle and Flókki. The young Alpha drew in a sharp breath before he spoke. "Okay." He nodded, and a smile started to crawl onto his face as the realisation sank in that Jorunn was home. "Welcome home, Jorunn." He bumped his head against Jorunn's shoulder again and his tail wagged ever so carefully as an extension of peace offering.

His first next thought was: "We should call mom!" She would be thrilled, and maybe it could be a good start to her recovery from the black pit she had fallen into since Ragnar's death. He looked at Jorunn though, figuring it was ultimately up to him whether he wanted to call Thistle now or surprise her upon his return to Moonspear after telling Bazi and Scimitar of the news. The whirlwind of emotions he'd gone through over the past couple of minutes seemed to finally simmer down, and even the outrider mission he'd had in mind for Flóki and Dhole was no longer necessary.

The tensions that had simmered between them had soothed and released. Some of it remained in the uncertainty surely shared by Charon and Floki, but also in the uncertainty within Tevinter himself. Kjalarr; the rumbling voice of the phantom echoed in his mind, chilling in it's ability to command in hushed tones, gravely and otherworldly — because the phantom of Ragnar Loðbrók that haunted Tevinter's dreams (and sometimes waking world) was no longer of this world. He existed corporeal in the hall of Valhalla, yet he also lived on. In the legacy he left behind, in Tevinter; in all of his children. For while it may have, currently, held no meaning to Tevinter, he was a Viking and the young Völva would know his true destiny in time.

Charon had drawn nearer again, offering a head bump against his shoulder. Tevinter accepted it with a lick to the underside of the older boy's chin. Charon held the authority here and while Tevinter did not agree with most of what his older brother had said (and was still miffed about the insults thrown his way), he recognized the authority, and accepted the peace offering. It was something that Tevinter felt as yet unstable. They did not know one another and that instability was to be expected. Charon spoke up then, breaking the silence that had settled over the group, causing Tevinter's eyes to leave his twin whom he'd offered a small smile to, announcing that they should call their mother. 

Something stirred within Tevinter's heart: something akin to excitement, anticipation and perhaps a small dose of fear. Would she react as Charon had? So ready to cut down those that had came to matter to him? Those of whom, without, Tevinter would have died? Would she insult him, too? Or would his appearance only make her depression worse? Kjalarr: the nourisher; the protector. “Let me say my goodbyes and we can surprise her on my return.” To Tevinter, this was a better option. It wouldn't take him too long to get back to Jade Fern Grove and he didn't plan on extending out his goodbyes for longer than they needed to be.

Floki held his breath as he waited for Charon's response. Tevinter's fate hung in the balance, and it was up to the young Alpha to decide what would happen to him. He exhaled as Charon welcomed their long-lost brother, even going so far as to touch his snout to Tevinter's shoulder. A tepid smile came to rest on his face.

Before Tevinter could officially join their ranks, however, he needed to go report back to the Frostfurs. On his return, he wanted to surprise Thistle Cloud. The thought lifted Floki's spirits; surely this would absolve some of the former Alpha female's grief. "Come back soon," were his parting words, and there was a touch of urgency in his tone. Part of him feared that Tevinter wouldn't return -- after all, they hardly knew the viking adolescent that stood before them.

Charon did not doubt that Thistle would react positively to Jorunn's return; she was soft like that, and Charon often mistook her forgiveness for weakness. Well, whatever; Jorunn was rejoining with the pack now and he was going to leave his shitty temporary family behind, and all would be fine once more.

Jorunn said he wanted to say his goodbyes to his temporary family. For a moment Charon considered asking him to stay now and to cut off all contact with the Frostfurs, but the ounce of maturity that he possessed then took over and he decided against it. Flóki asked him to return soon and Charon just nodded at Jorunn before turning away and vanishing into Moonspear's forests. He wasn't sure if Jorunn'd return, but time would tell, and until then he wouldn't tell Thistle, not wanting to cheer his mother up only to bring her down again when Jorunn didn't return.