Raven's Watch Mr. Lonely

@Bane @Nemesis

He's never felt lonely before.

He always considered himself a loner, a lone predator stalking from one place to the next, surviving at the fringes of pack life, the boogieman made real, the ghost haunting their borders. He would have been content staying that way — it brought him prosperity where sedentary life in a pack had not. It made hunting easier, it made living his true life as a strigoi easier. He never considered giving up that life.

Until he came to Teekon Wilds. 

Last autumn he met someone, a companion. Not another of his kind, no, but a thrall. A vassal that he had protected and nurtured through the winter into spring. His sweet, quiet baiatel.

In that guardianship he had met others. An alliance was formed, the promise of a pack where he could live free to do as he pleased, where his baiatel could be protected and wellfed. Swept into the excitement of it all, he didn't think anything of letting Bane go to find more members, expand their ranks. 

It was his folly that whatever spark had ignited in Raven's Watch had fizzled. What wolves had been gathered had disappeared with the warming winds, as Bane's absence prolonged. Even his thrall, connected to him by blood, had disappeared. Athanasius spent days tracking him before he knew he had to give up. He never even learned his name.

It was after all of this that Athan sat on one of the peaks of Raven's Watch, gazing out at the sea, wondering if it was even worth it to stay any longer now that he was truly alone.

He had left, not because he wanted to, but because he was ambitious. He knew that while the Teekon Wilds was an oasis, a mine of paradises, he would only ever find the right people to join him elsewhere. Peace reigned over these lands, strong, enduring peace that Bane deeply respected, but peace was not his style. Bane needed that tinge of chaos in his life to spark it up and give it a purpose, and so he'd taken to himself the task of disrupting that Teekon Wilds' peace.

Sure-footed, the ice beast made his way back up the silver ranges of the Sunspear Mountains. Like never before he felt the energy flowing through him pull him towards the place he'd claimed like his home, and his chest longed to return. That had been his own. For the first time ever, Bane Blackfeather had built something on his own, and he treasured it like a monument of his grandeur. He was conscious that his departure could easily fuck it all up, but

Athan! calls Bane at the first glimpse of the silver ridgeback perched atop the watch's tower. He'd grown fond of Athan (despite his aversion towards the other boy), and seeing him still standing in his guard brought him joy. Athan's presence meant that he hadn't come too late and that his influence had been deep. Where's the other boy? he asked, not seeing the potential displeasure that he could cause by doing so.

Athan's head lifts at the familiar booming voice. He turns, and the visage of the white-eyed wolf becomes clear to him. You, He snarls, not greeting his leader with smiles and wagging tail, but risen hackles. He's gone, along with the others. I am the only one left.

Bane is met with a snarl and an acidic glare by Athan, which seemed contradictory given that he'd stayed awaiting Bane's return. It was understandable, of course, but in his defense there were many others with the group when Bane left so he wasn't taking any shit from no one. And why did you stay, then? booms his own snarl as he takes an defensive-aggressive stand himself.

'And why did you say then?' Bane countered. The question throws Athan's eyes wide, as if he had realized something. The realization ebbs away, and a chuckle takes its place. He laughs, at himself, at this situation, at his sudden epiphany. I had hope, for once, He smirks, the thought foreign to him. Hope. There was hope for a meal to come, hope for someone interesting. There had been hope that his baiatel would speak, and hope that he would come back to him. And there was the hope that Bane would return and give some meaning to his wretched existance.