Wolf RPG

Life had taken an unexpected turn for Damien indeed. Fearing to crumble to the ground after his mother's death, Damien had kept himself busier than ever. He could not afford to take a single second to think, because if he allowed it, he would surely lose his mind.

Luckily for Damien, Burke had proposed a task for him recently that could help him get his paws on something before losing it. Alexander (with whom Damien wasn't familiar yet) was, according to Burke, in need of a mentor; and the fact that he'd thought of Damien for the job made the young warrior... Proud.

Damien hadn't really seen Kove since he came back, and it was about damn time he said hi to one of his only friends in the world. He didn't know where he was residing with his son, or even if he had taken a permanent residence in a den, but he figured it would be easy to find the warden close to the borders. Like always, Damien moved through the Shadows avoiding any eye, and soon enough he sighted the silhouette of a broad Arctic male, accompanied by his smaller clone.

"One would think you'd be polite enough to say hi..." spoke a specter from the shadows, sitting calmly behind the pair.

The Inuit’s top priority upon learning of the Queen’s death had been to keep himself busy. It was difficult to believe she was truly gone, but he knew he needed to accept it. No good would come from allowing himself to just sit around in a slump, so he’d linger around the borders as frequently as he was able to do so. This particular day he was accompanied by his son, whose reaction to grief he could not yet bear witness to. It was strange, the way a child went about life, hardly allowing the single father even a hint as to what was going on within the boy’s mind. That very same lack of knowing was what made him certain time spent together would be a good thing, if only for a few hours. Thus, he’d made sure the albino stuck close to him as he went about his usual routine, looking back every now and again to see if, perhaps, there was a spark of interest in the younger’s eyes. He’d yet to see such a sign so far, making him consider that the boy did not have any attraction towards the Warden trade—which was to be expected, to some extent, given Xan’s bullheaded nature. He wasn’t exactly the most well-mannered or patient of children.

They’d recently stopped for a short break, Kove knowing better than to overexert himself, when a voice filled the space at their backs. It was one the man knew well, bringing him to turn around and face the young shadow. It’d been ages since he’d last seen his friend in a more casual setting, and he regretted that fact. His attention had been set upon other things, and he was ashamed to admit that he’d forgotten to meet with Damien upon his return. “Damien,” he greeted, giving a nod of his head. “Must have slipped my mind. I haven’t seen you around too much.” Though there was a gap between their ages, that Northerner had never really been reminded of it. Despite having lived for less years than himself, he still possessed a great deal of maturity—something his son was definitely without. “Have you been well?” Whether his query was posed in accordance with Meldresi’s recent passing, specifically, or not, was not revealed. Overall, he wondered how Damien was doing, both before and after his mother’s departure from their world.

It had felt like they’d been walking for ages. Alexander was all for explorations and adventures, but what they were doing fell into neither of those categories. It was boring work, and not at all interesting. Xan was, without a doubt, bored out of his mind. There were several occasions in which he’d contemplated sneaking off, but the sudden glances he’d received from his father set him right back in line behind him. Like his father, the boy wondered what the other Apaata male was feeling towards the death of their leader, but dare he actually ask. The child himself wasn’t really feeling anything towards it—or at least not anything he could label with a set name. It felt the same as when his mother had left with his sisters in tow, except there was no anger fueling him, just various forms of sorrow that were unknown to him. Despite him having not known the dark priestess for very long, he’d felt a connection to her, especially so since she was family. He didn’t quite understand their relations fully, but he knew they were there, and was saddened by them being torn away from him.

His uncertainty kept his mind occupied, inwardly trying to process what he was feeling, while outwardly he stayed silent and followed after his dad. Even when they stopped, he did not speak up to voice his displeasure towards being dragged along. His mouth remained clamped shut, even when the older wolf turned and began speaking to someone. Meanwhile, Alexander continued to stare off in the same direction he’d been facing since sitting down, little interest in finding out who was there. That is, until a name was mentioned. One name that he’d heard before, and had made an effort to remember—Damien, eldest brother to Cicero and Potema, as well as someone the prior had told him to seek out to improve his battle skills. That one word had the whelp twisting himself about, queer eyes quickly seeking out and looking over the obsidian wolf. For now, he’d decided to remain silent, opting to instead listen in on the exchange between the elders. He would have plenty of time later to bombard with older boy with questions and propositions.

Taking others by surprise was Damien's biggest pleasure, it made him feel in control and doing it on someone like Kove was even more rewarding. His friend was a Dark Brother, someone Damien admired in more than one way, and someone whose presence made Blackfeather Woods feel more like home, especially after recent, devastating events.

Damien knew that the late re-encounter with Kove had been half his own fault. Damien had been distant even from his family ever since he returned from the 'Grimnir odyssey', and meeting with old friends had been far from his priorities. Those had been dark days for Damien, but it recently had just became darker, and more dangerous, and Damien could not afford to relapse. Having friends now wasn't only a priority, it was a necessity if Damien didn't want to spiral down.

"I will be okay..." Damien assured, shrugging undesired feelings off. Damien noticed Alexander's reaction to Kove mentioning his name, and met the boy's eyes with a keen look. There was a lot of interest in the kid in that moment, and both of them had a lot to gain if things went well. Damien's pale eyes returned to Kove, followed by a friendly smile. "It is good to have you here. Both of you..." he said suggestively. Damien knew that bringing his son was Kove's way of saying he still shared the Brotherhood's interests, and that he remained loyal to it even after Bearclaw Valley's downfall.

Damien turned his attention back to Xan for a moment, his expression unusually friendly. "Are you interested in being a warden, boy? Or is your father trying to stuff it down your throat?" he asked with a sly smile, his words obviously meant to tease the older male. He knew Kove was a warden by trade, and it only made sense for him to want his son to follow his steps, but Damien believed that everyone deserved a chance to follow their own path, and Alexander wasn't showing a lot of interest in the task in Damien's opinion.

Kove nodded, though whether he believed the statement or not was definitely up for discussion. He believed the younger male to be strong, but the loss of a parent was not an easy thing to go through. Truthfully, Damien had lost both his parents, though Burke had taken on the paternal role long ago. Perhaps Bane’s leaving had happened just early on enough so as not to leave any permanent scars, but even so, he found his mind wandering back to his first meeting with the shadow. His reaction to undesirable news had, clearly, changed, but the Inuit couldn’t keep himself from inwardly questioning if, by chance, it was an act. Damien had many roles placed upon him, so the possibility of his emotional strength being nothing more than a play was plausible.

All that was none of Kove’s business, however, so he did not verbally present his suspicions.

“It’s good to be here,” the ghost voiced, the corners of his maw twitching as a smile attempted to break through. “I missed the woods during my time away. Returning was probably the best choice I’ve ever made.” Running the valley had been fun while it’d lasted, but the kingdom’s life was short and rocky. It’d fallen to ruins, partially due to himself, and had led to the end of many things. A pack, a friendship, a love… even a family. It’d ended, and he couldn’t help but think, now, that it was all for the better. As far as he was concerned, the only positive note to have come from his relationship and leaving with the albino was his children. Nothing more nor less. He had believed himself to have found a partner for life, but true colours were shown, and he’d realized his heart was confined to the shadows. They owned him, and he was perfectly fine with that.

With the attention being directed towards his son, the man turned his head to glance at the boy. He was curious of what his answer would be, and even grinned at the teasing. He couldn’t say he didn’t want the younger Inuit to follow in his footsteps and pursue the Warden trade, for that would be a lie. Still, he didn’t expected it to happen. He doubted it would, really. As much as he disliked admitting to it, he couldn’t deny that Xan just didn’t have the personality that went along with being a Warden.

Alexander kept quiet, even when the other mentioned it being good that they were there. He’d been told the tale of his father’s leaving, and had slightly understood what it meant for him to have returned. He couldn’t quite grasp why the elder had ever even considered leaving Blackfeather, since it seemed far greater a place to live than the valley ever was. The idea of caring for someone so much that you’d drop everything and follow them was, to the albino, utterly stupid. He could understand doing something similar if family was involved, as he possessed the same strong instinct of familial honour and protection everyone on his father’s side seemed to have, but for someone else? He just couldn’t understand it, especially when he’d look back on the memories he had of his mother. She just didn’t seem to fit what he felt his dad deserved, and hadn’t exactly found a place on the boy’s good side—the constant “corrections” had prevented that from ever happening. Still, he never outwardly expressed his thoughts on it all, not wanting to risk what rifts might arise between them due to it.

The conversation was eventually directed towards him, giving him no choice but to speak. Abandoning his previous thoughts, he focused on what was being said to him, though his expression lacked the amusement Kove and Damien’s faces seemed to hold. “Being a Warden has never interested me,” he answered, tossing a quick glance at the other pale being to try and gauge his reaction. Surprisingly—or at least to Xan it was—Kove didn’t appear to be shocked by his choice of words. Shrugging it off, he returned his focus to the darker wolf, set on explaining himself further just in case he was misunderstood. “What they do is good for the pack and all, but it’s not something I’ve ever seen myself doing. It seems boring and dull, and I want no part in it. Ever.” Just walking around some invisible, scented lines all day long? No thanks.

“I only tagged along because I was asked to, since my dad wanted to spend time together. I tried finding a way to escape, but every time I went to turn my head, he’d look back at me.” It was weird to Xan, and made him seriously question what type of creature his dad was. “It was like he could hear even the smallest of shifts in my movements.” At that, his eyes narrowed slightly, though it wasn’t directed at anyone in particular. He expected to be chastised for his choice of wording, but when he threw another glance at Kove, the elder was chuckling. It confused Alexander, but he refrained from questioning him directly. Despite how much he valued and looked up to his father, there were times in which he found himself questioning the Northerner’s mental state.

"And the woods certainly missed you, my friend." said Damien, his mouth perfectly straight, but his eyes showed just how much warmth and tranquility it gave him having such an important person in his life close again. Kove had helped him cope with the loss of his father once, and although Damien believed he didn't need a shoulder to cry on this time, it comforted him knowing that there were quite a few available in case he was mistaken.

Not knowing what to expect from Kove's son, Damien was taken aback by the seriousness with which he took Damien's question. It was clear that Alexander was not someone to take things lightly, and every word that came out of his mouth seemed to reflect just how pure his own opinion was. He was already someone, and Damien kinda liked that.

Damien chuckled, along with Kove, when the child mentioned how difficult it was to escape his father.

"That's what wardens do, and exactly what makes your father one of the best Blackfeather Wodods has ever had. You should be proud to be his son..." Damien had always had an ability to make himself sound more mature than he probably was. But that was exactly what gave him the feeling that he was in control most of the times. He liked feeling on top of things.

"But if that's not for you, then we're no one to judge you... If fact, that's the reason I came here for today..." he said, glancing shortly at Kove who perhaps knew where this conversation was turning. "... If I am not mistaken, you require training in combat... I can help you with that..."

No matter how great their age difference might be, there were undeniable feelings of relief and honour as the shadow responded to his words. It was comforting to know that, despite his mistakes, he still had a place within the Woods. Of course, Meldresi had assured him of the very same thing back when he’d returned home, but with her having departed from their world, he hadn’t been able to keep himself from reverting back to his original thoughts. He’d felt displaced by the sudden death, as well as the fact that a man who did not currently like him was the one leading the pack. It’d been concerning, for a while there, as he’d been unable to determine what his fate would be. Whether he’d be sent far away from Blackfeather, or permitted to remain within his home. Damien, while not of a leading rank, confirmed that the latter would be the case for him, if only because he could not see himself as being capable of being dragged away his young friend again.

To make things better, it seemed as if his son was to learn beneath the older boy. Whether the idea to do so was entirely his own or not made no difference in the Inuit’s mind, for he was simply happy that his child would not be left to his own devices constantly. Kove could provide guidance for the boy, that was a given, but he did not share the same sense of direction, and therefore could not always be there to give him valuable insight. That, however, was not the case for Damien, who was a fine warrior already—the same lifestyle the elder suspected Alexander wished to pursue. In spite of his strong suspicions, he could not decide with full certainty of what his clone might say in response to the proposal he’d been given. Learning was an easy thing for him, and the pursuit of knowledge never ceased to catch the younger’s interest, but the father feared that stubbornness might ruin the wonderful opportunity he’d been given. Silently, and with unknown anxieties, Kove awaited the words that would seal the life his heir would live.

Alexander did not understand the friendship between the dark figure and his father. It seemed strange, in his mind, but perhaps that was due to his past experiences with those older (and younger) than himself. They always seemed to act far more different than himself, and there were more times than not that he felt it would be better for them to just drop off the face of the earth. Little did he know that age played no factor into his experiences, for it was his attitude and outlook on life that were to blame. Alas, even if he were given a five-page essay explaining that to him, he’d never believe it. Still, he did not voice his thoughts on whatever the relationship was between the two of them, shockingly not in the mood for unnecessary arguments. Plus, it wasn’t exactly a bad thing, he realized. If his father had friends, that meant the young Inuit would have more time to himself—or more time to pester Nemesis and whoever else would hang around long enough for him to get ahold of.

Again, the boy was told of the pride he should feel towards being the Northerner’s son. It wasn’t that he disliked his father—he couldn’t feel such an emotion even if he wanted to—but to be told by those he hardly knew that he should be proud of his lineage was odd. He was proud to be the son of Kove, but being reminded that he should feel such a way made him curious of what the future might be like for him. Was he destined to live in the shadow of the Inuit? Would he be thought of in such a way if he ever had kids of his own? They were troubling notions that ran through his head, none of which he would voice, but it could be seen quite easily that he was bothered by something. Unlike his dad, he’d yet to master showing little to no feelings in his expressions, and it was still unknown whether he ever would. “I’ve been told that before…” he muttered then, mentally shoving any bothersome thoughts to the back of his head.

Thankfully, the conversation was soon turned elsewhere, relieving the boy of any worries he might have for the future. It wasn’t the time to be concerned over what could be, it was the time to accomplish enough so that he might be able to step out from behind his father when the time came to do so. “I do,” Xan confirmed, having already come to terms with the fact that he couldn’t learn everything on his own. “Cicero taught be some things, but he also told me to seek out your help whenever I could.” He’d never forgotten the words of his temporary-teacher, nor the lesson he’d been given. It’d stuck with him, he’d simply been slow on finding Damien and asking to be taught by him. Now it seemed he wouldn’t even need to swallow his pride and ask, for the older boy had offered his assistance. “I need to learn everything so I can be the best,” he stated rather bluntly, not seeing a single issue with the goal he’d chosen to work towards.

Damien smiled at the younger wolf's response to Damien's proposal. The little warrior seemed to have a lot of enthusiasm about the combat training as opposed to his guarding sessions with his father. Damien glanced at Kove, both seeking for his approval (although it didn't have much importance now since Burke had commanded it) and to see what his reaction would be. He could understand why he wanted his son to train with him, but if that wasn't for the boy then someone who matched Xan's aspirations would be best for guiding him.

Damien thought highly of himself, and this task only meant another step closer for him to get on the top tiers; but he surely didn't know what to expect. Alexander was a quiet boy for what he'd seen this far, but he was blunt when it came to expressing himself, and in most cases that could mean a degree of disregard for what was expected of one. That could make things hard for the young mentor, but it hadn't even crossed his mind.

"Excellent!" Barked Damien with a sly smile, "Then let's not waste any more time... Come with me, boy." he instructed, and with one last glance and smile at Kove, Damien delved into the forest. His pace gave time for the kid to have a private moment with his father before initiating his classes, but just enough. There was no time to waste when it came to becoming the best at something.

If it had to be anyone but himself supervising his son’s training, he could think of no one better than Damien. Though young, he was a strong kid, as well as assertive. It was, to the Inuit’s belief, the type of wolf best equipped for handling his bullheaded boy. While he was weary of whether their personalities would clash or not, he could see nothing truly wrong with them having a mentor-student-type relationship. Perhaps it was even for the best, considering Xan’s obvious lack of interest in guarding the borders. He knew that he would still have time to teach other things to the younger ghost, which came as a relief, but not all of the mentoring would be up to him any longer. It was a parent’s job to teach their child, to ensure they grew up understanding the basic workings of the world, but their role as the head teacher was not meant to last forever. There always came a time in which that title was passed onto someone else, and it seemed as if such a time had already arrived for the Inuit duo.

Kove gave a nod of his head to both of the boys, officially passing the reins over to the night child. At times, letting go and accepting change were hard, but necessary, things—surprisingly enough, however, it did not feel like one of those times. Knowing that his heir was in good hands was all the reassurance he needed, and all he would ever ask for. He was certain that, under Damien’s guidance, Alexander would grow into all he aspired to be.

Though he was excited to finally begin his training as a warrior, he also felt a hint of worry. So far, it seemed as if his father wasn’t the least bit affected by his disinterest in the older male’s trade, but whether the display was false or not was unknown. He couldn’t read him, which irritated him greatly. So while his heart raced at the thought of being taught by someone said to be good, he found his gaze drifting to his father in search of approval. A sign of some sort that meant it was perfectly fine for him to pursue his desire. If he were a human, perhaps he would have been sweating with anticipation as his eyes remained glued to the face of his dad, searching for something that meant it was okay. The elder sure took his time with thinking it over, much to Xan’s displeasure, but the second a nod was seen it seemed as if a large weight had been lifted from the pallid child’s shoulders. A quiet sigh slipped out between his teeth, before shooting a quick grin Kove’s way.

The younger shared a few final words with his father, informing the other that he had meant no offense by anything he’d said. That he’d just been answering honestly—albeit a bit brutally so. The words were accepted right away, of course, and then responded to with a simple ‘good luck’. At that, Xan nodded, then slipped away into the trees. His paws carried him after the darker wolf, determination burning bright within his chest and growing with each step taken. He was on the path to becoming the best, and there was nothing that could prevent him from accomplishing his dream.