scars
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#1
Weakness pervaded him, filled him, blocked out the normalcy he was used to on days like today. The sky was...white. Just white. No hints of the usual azure could be seen. No clouds, either. It was like he could fall up into that whiteness at any moment. His eyes were glued to the earth, growing more and more paranoid the longer he stared into the abyss overhead. It made him feel ill. Almost like that time he met Ayana at Greatwater Lake. Halting his daily sweep of the borders, he grew still; a sepia sculpture among a sea of swaying emerald blades. Last thing he needed right now was to upchuck. From what, he did not know. Did not care to know or to discover.
INDENTSetting off into a canter, Tatsuya trailed along the southwest delimitation of the spire, close to the tarns. From here, he could see the damage that area received. Patches of exposed earth, some felled trees...Whether it has always been so disheveled, he could not say. Back at Ouroboros Spine, he had not traveled any farther eastward than Haunted Wood. Though he wanted to, his allegiance to Tonravik took priority over any residual impatience since his days as a loner. Just how far would he be allowed to go, he wondered, once the pups were grown enough. Staring wistfully out over the tarns, he pondered this in silence and in lifelessness.
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He was sore from his spar with Nanuk, yet Wicked didn't let it slow him down. He rose early and began to patrol, ignoring the aches and pains in his muscles. As he plodded around the mountain's base, he relived the battle in his head, a small smile twitching his lips. Although the wolves here gave him a hard time—Nanuk, especially—he knew he was going to love it here. His horrible past would crumble into ash and blow away with the wind. As always, the metaphor made his dark eyes gleam.

Eventually, his black toes led him to the very area where he and Nanuk had first met one another. He spotted a black wolf loitering near the edge of the tarns and Wicked immediately began to bristle, growl and bare his teeth. He began to prowl aggressively toward the stranger when he caught his scent and realized this wolf belonged to the spire. He stopped on a dime and let his lips relax back over his fangs even as his tail suddenly fell limp behind him.

He did not say anything, instead studying the black wolf and his demeanor from where he stood. The word forlorn came to mind. Wicked know what that felt like, though he still didn't deign to speak. This male was almost certainly his superior, so it was his right to speak first.
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#3
Listlessly scanning the miry tarns, one ear rotated to heed oncoming paw steps. The paces were leisurely. Not rushed like some lunatic looking to do him harm. Nonetheless, he turned to inspect just who lingered nearby. At first, he thought it was Nanuk but the wolf was perceptibly smaller than the polar bear. Namely in width. Not so much in height. He had one of those ectomorph builds. Tatsuya thought him too reed like for his tastes, yet trusted he knew his way to the caches by now. His toes...were black. Like he decided ermine fur was too common so he stuck his digits in some tar to add some pizzazz. Oddly enough, his eyes were the same color; all black and glassy like polished obsidian.
INDENTThe Gamma was unnerved by Wicked's abyssal eyes; how endless they seemed, broken only by shards of harsh light. This feature alone garnered mistrust though it was completely unfounded. Perhaps in the weeks to follow, he would cozy up to this rummy fellow. Or maybe Wicked would trip up and all his dark secrets would come spilling out.
INDENTFresh blood,” spoke the bistre Gamma in an appraising tone. That was always good, right? Sizing him up once more, he pursed his lips skeptically, leaning his head to the sides as if to say, where's the rest of ya?Hardly any meat though.” Was he joking? With that straight face? That was purely up to his company.
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He was growing accustomed to the spire's trend of sarcasm and browbeating. It was all harmless enough, nothing like the way his uncles had treated him. They had looked upon him with genuine hatred and disdain since the moment he was born. You should've killed me, he found himself thinking, momentarily lost in recollections of his past. Your mistake. His lips twitched faintly, mostly in response to that inner thought but also in reaction to the black stranger's unsurprising greeting.

"And a little burnt too," Wicked quipped, running with the joke. He bowed his head to show off the very subtle scarring left by some minor burns. He then took a few steps closer only to stop again and drop to his haunches. "That's what happens when you play with fire: you get burned. Have you ever seen the stuff?" It was kind of a non sequitur but there was a dark fascination written into his youthful features as he asked.
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#5
wicked freaks tat out loL SJBWCD
Burnt? Whatever did he – ah. Well then. Speckles of what appeared to be burnt flesh adorned his neck and occiput. His snowy fur made it difficult to see them, even to a discerning eye. The Gamma was stunned into silence. First he came across a adolescent with a mangled limb. Now he's come face-to-face with a wolf who has survived fire. Fire! What the hell is this world coming to? Wicked's captivation only served to upset him even more. This, he did not allow the other to see. The youth's fascination with fire was not unheard of. Even Tatsuya wondered what it was, why it came to be, and where it came from.
INDENTTell you what: patrol with me, and I'll tell you what went down at our previous home.” Two birds, one stone. That was a good thing, right? Tonravik did not reward those who loiter or are lazy. Wicked did not give the impression of being either. The wolverine did not want to give off this vibe either. Staring into those bizarre eyes made him antsy too.
INDENTTurning around, he ascended further up the spire. Their pack mates have cut through here plenty of times already but he found the trail here – this divide betwixt claimed and unclaimed – to be wanting. It was a rugged, precipitous and treacherous divide but it had to be done. Tatsuya did not want to give loners or fauna any reason to breach Sawtooth Spire's borders. After climbing up a sort of rock staircase, he paused to see if his blemished companion was close behind.
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#6
Haha, he's actually supposed to have that effect on people! He's meant to have a dark edge of sorts.

The other male didn't answer the question directly, though his mention of the pack's previous home snapped Wicked out of his queer head space. The yearling blinked, then nodded mutely. When the dark wolf began to lead him up the mountainside, he barely hesitated before trotting after him. His aching muscles protested as they began to climb, yet he continued to ignore them. The longer he lived here, the more he would condition his body to the life of an alpinist.

While he waited for his escort to speak, Wicked paused and glanced over his shoulder, in the direction of the meadow where he'd hunted wild turkeys to prove his worth to Nanuk. From here, he could see the swath of flattened grass and earth. He had a sneaking suspicion that whatever natural phenomenon had caused that was the same one to force the pack to relocate. He faced forward again, dark eyes gleaming as he anticipated his pack mate's story.
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#7
The sky was not as oppressive while in Wicked's presence. He pondered why. Malaise budded in his presence, displacing previous mental anxieties. Looking upon him now, the wolf seemed every bit as mortal as the Gamma; muscles moving in unison to like a well-oiled machine. This, too, was a comfort. A comfort that guided inflection easier now rather than minutes before.
INDENTUnder cover of night, it came upon us. Tempests, lightning, rain.” Stopping there, he ascended, beckoning the Epsilon to shadow him with a flick of his tail. “We resided upon a spine, you see. It was less mountainous than the one we're standing on now. It was heavily forested and numerous boulders littered the landscape. What with the strong winds and rain, the spine became treacherous. It was only going to get worse from then on.” What were they to do – hide away in their dens until the storm passed? That might have been an option...were it not for that godawful tornado. “It got so bad our leaders decided it best to relocate. We called for everyone, but the winds were so strong – it howled louder than we ever could.” Silence settled between them again. Tatsuya continued to climb even as he spoke, growing intermittent to catch his breath. The terrain here was far harsher than Ouroboros Spine.
INDENTWe broke up into separate groups. Tonravik led one group to safety. Iqniq, Nanuk and myself were tasked with finding those left behind. We all scoured the lands. Only one wolf was found.And now he's lost. Again. Perhaps forever.We tried to find the rest, but in that same moment, lightning struck a tree not far from where we were standing.Blinding, deafening. My tongue tingled and my ears rang afterwards.It started out as an ember, but it quickly grew into roaring flames despite the lashing winds.” What fueled it? One would think the residual energy left behind by the lightning strike had something to do with it. The memory of the air – hot, charged, crackling. Weaving across my skin in a million divergent paths.
INDENTSomber and wistful he then became. Not the happiest of moments to relive. “Ouroboros Spine was engulfed in flames. We escaped unscathed, seeking refuge within Moonspear; a sturdy mountain with interconnected caves. We waited out the storm and tornado there. After that, we were ordered to search for a new home and, well...here we are.” A pitiful ending to a riveting tale. He was never good with endings.
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Wicked climbed in silence as his pack mate regaled him with an eloquent and dramatic tale. The entire thing was fascinating, though the part about the lightning captured his attention more acutely than did the other details. As the black wolf described the scene, Wicked's lips twitched as another one unfolded in his mind's eye. He had not only seen a wildfire (caused by dry weather rather than than lightning in his case), he had capitalized on one. The strange scars on his face and neck seemed to tingle with the memory of carrying a limb engulfed in flames at one end, the heat singing the pale fur on his face. He would not put it down until he reached his destination: the edge of the meadow...

The silence following the Gamma's story snapped the pale yearling out of his reverie. "Do you think those missing perished in the flames?" Wicked paused a long moment, then couldn't help but share, "I saw a similar fire wipe out an entire pack. There were no survivors." He wasn't entirely certain of that. He hadn't seen anyone escape the smoke and flames, though Wicked had only stuck around long enough to assure the territory's total destruction. When he had turned his back on it all, the fire had still been burning...

"What about the pups?" he asked. Several youngsters had been burnt to death in his fire, he knew, but what about the spine's? "They all survived, didn't they?" Wicked knew about the Alpha pair's four sons. Iqniq hadn't mentioned losing any. The adults must have carried them to safety during the maelstrom. For the moment, it didn't occur to him that Tonravik had carried all of them, still safely tucked in her womb.
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#9
Tatsuya awaited for the inquiries to start rolling in. He hiked up a leg to piss on a jutting boulder before moving on, decelerating to contemplate Wicked's input. An entire pack, huh? We were lucky then. Thanks to Tonravik and Iqniq's weather eye, they avoided a hellish sentence. Not all, unhappily, but most. “This pack...were you acquainted with them?” How else could he have received those burns? Surely not for heroics. Seeming the bad ass did have appeal, but fire shut any kind of savior complex down.
INDENTAs for survivors, it is a grim yet probable likelihood.” Tonravik was adamant about searching for remains or signs that they yet lived before moving on. They found no corpses but copious amounts of ash. Who's to say the flames did not burn the remaining few in to a crisp. If someone did perish in the flames, they left no trace of their existence save for memory.
INDENTThe pups were not yet born.” The stress of being ousted from Ouroboros Spine and the long trek to Sawtooth Spire was enough to send any weaker female into labor. As always, the she-bear continued to impress. “I do not know if the trek here – along with our resettlement – has affected her and Iqniq's brood.” Worry seeped into his words unbidden. Knowing next to nothing of the pups condition kept him up at night. Settling in to Sawtooth Spire has not been easy. Not by a long shot.
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He could have easily replied no and left it that. Surely his pack mate would not pry any further. However, Wicked felt compelled to answer honestly. "Yes. It was my birth pack." He knew he should seem horrified about such a tragedy striking his family but he couldn't and wouldn't pretend like he was sad about it, even if he didn't admit outright his actual involvement. "They treated me poorly and they got what they deserved," Wicked said in a low, almost sinister voice.

They continued to talk of the spine, now the spire. The Gamma quickly informed the pale yearling that the pups hadn't been born at the time, meaning that Tonravik had gone through the entire event not only pregnant but close to term. He made a thoughtful noise in response to the darker male's comment. They'd had four strong sons by the sound of it, which was more than enough. Never had he seen a litter larger than six and half would usually die within the first several weeks.

That probably meant the Alphas' young were not out of the woods yet, though they had been through quite a lot already (if in utero) and Wicked knew the parents would do everything they could to guarantee the success of their brood. In his indirect way, Wicked would contribute, by feeding their mother and guarding the borders in her stead. He didn't mind that, as long as he didn't have to babysit them directly.

"Iqniq says they had four boys," the young Epsilon reported what he knew with a roll of his shoulder. He paused to hike a leg, following his superior's example. Not only would it deter outsiders, it would add his scent to the rest of the packs', strengthening their claim and presence. "He didn't mention any health concerns. I would think their mother would be the most affected but he didn't mention any issues with her either. I know you're all a tough breed." It didn't take long to figure that out about the Sawtooth wolves.
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#11
One more from you and we should be done. :) Good thread, btw. (too bad it'll be the last between these 2 ASHFLS UR SO MEEEAN)
Wicked's reply was out of the blue. His ermine-coated pack mate was fearless in condemning his pack to die in an inferno. To wish that upon the living Wicked must have endured some form of abuse. Enough to make him feel justified in watching his birth pack go up in flames. No matter how verified Wicked actually was did not stop the gut-wrenching distress upon hearing his admission. That had more to do with the vivid scenes playing out in his headspace. The Gamma could, at least, find some twisted joy imaging his own abusers burning. Wherever they are...
INDENTAre we going to bond over how broken we are? Tatsuya dare not touch upon that subject again. Only a downward spiral awaited them in comparing scars.
INDENTEars swiveled at the mention of pups. So they had four sons? They were healthy? As is Tonravik? The wolverine let out a relieved sigh. He was bitter not knowing how many pups Tonravik has yielded prior to this moment. Yet Iqniq thought it was A-OK to tell a newcomer. I see how it is. Giving a mercurial lash of his tail, the stone-faced Gamma picked up the pace; enlivened by short-lived yet valid frustrations. “You're one of us now,” came his gruff retort, shouldering on despite corporeal aches and pains. “So keep up.” His vehemence was obviously fake but his demand was real. Wicked would learn Tatsuya was not a patient leader in excursions such as these.
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Haha, I'm sorry we didn't get to do our Warrior/Warden swap. It was such a nifty idea! *sucks*

The Gamma reminded him that he was to be counted among them now, which meant he was tough too. Wicked smiled crookedly, glad to be included. He had been born tough, though, persecuted since his first breath because of a father he'd never met and a name he hadn't chosen for himself. Although he'd developed a thick skin early on, it hadn't been thick enough to save his tormentors from his eventual retaliation. They had burned him a thousand times, yet he had gotten them in the end, burning them to ash and walking away with only scars.

He almost wanted to tell his pack mate all about it. He had already implied so much. Yet he had only just been accepted, named, included... and Wicked feared exclusion now that he actually had something to lose. They might chase him away if they knew what he'd done before. They had nothing to fear, yet they might drive him away anyway. He would do anything to protect his place in that pack and that included keeping his secrets.

But there was one thing he was willing to admit to the black male as they continued their patrol. He would never know the significance anyhow. "I never got your name," he said casually, pausing to allow his fellow to introduce himself before saying, "I guess mine's Kanik now. I went by Wicked before that, though even that's not my real name either." He felt his heart beat a little harder even as he paused and hiked a leg to mark an exposed tree root. "I was born Tyrannus." The yearling put his foot back on the ground. "Tyrannus II." He felt a bit lighter after that as he continued along in Tatsuya's wake.