Wolf RPG

The sudden appearance of his sister had left the boy in a slight daze, dragging all the feelings he’d suppressed to the surface once more. Despair filled his veins with ice, the jagged pieces being continuously looped through his heart and leaving behind painful tears. For the majority of his journey home, his heart had ached with indescribable agony, leaving him feeling as if he’d been physically wounded. Several times he’d been forced to a stop, his legs trembling far too much to keep him moving. He was not ill, yet his stomach churned with uncertainty and other emotions he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, place. Slowly, though, that pain had started to morph into something else, something dark. Each step he took towards Blackfeather had his heart thumping even harder within his chest, the action growing somewhat violent. It got to the point where he felt he could go no further, thus stopping him along the creek. He remained there for longer than necessary, staring towards the shadows he knew to be home. The anguish he’d previously felt had died away by then, replaced by a fiery hatred. It was not directed towards his home, of course, but towards life itself.

Alexander had continued his trek home with fire rushing through his veins, melting the ice and leaving him incapable of feeling anything but abhorrence. For the longest time, he’d wished for his family to be reunited, for his sisters to live within the dark woods at his side, but he was finally realizing that such an occurrence would never happen. They’d chosen long ago who they’d wished to remain with, where they’d wished to live, and though it was irrational, he held it against them. Their choices had brought him more pain than he’d realized, but he had no way of expressing himself—he didn’t know how. The way one coped with their emotions varied between each individual, and he’d yet to discover his own. Alas, the young Inuit had not yet realized that, and so he’d never worked towards finding a healthy outlet. No, instead, he’d kept everything bottled up nice and tight, not allowing his inner thoughts to be read.

Or, at least, that’s how it’d used to be.

As the pallid boy crossed the threshold into the territory, a wave of familiarity washed over him. It comforted him unknowingly, but even that was not enough to take the edge off. Anger continued to run rampant throughout his slender body, his conscious egging him on. Inutovunga. The thought came so suddenly, leaving him unprepared for it. In truth, he was not alone. He knew he wasn’t alone, yet insecurities had a funny way of tampering with one’s mind. He had his dad, he had Nem, and he had the pack. Xan was not alone, he had never been alone, but the notion still lingered in the back of his head. No matter how many times he shook his head, the troubling word would not leave. It seemed to echo within his skull, taunting him in a way no other had before. Doing the only thing he felt himself capable of at the time, the Inuit continued to walk forward through the forest, his direction seemingly random and unplanned. Unconsciously, perhaps he was looking for someone, though the ‘who’ was unknown.

As she walked hurriedly without a cause, she was deep in thought. The brief flicker of emotion she had with Kove scared her. Not the part about Kove, but the part of her barriers wavering; that somehow a sliver of feeling had cracked a tiny part of her darkened soul. And it terrified her. Was she getting soft? No, it was impossible. Nothing and nobody could do that to her, not even she could help her feel something like that again. It was then when her ears twitched slightly, the sound of footfalls nearing. It only took a whiff of air to recognise the boy, who now turning her attention to; seemed to be habiting an unruly attitude. She became wary, not for her own sake but for his.

She knew what a destructive temper could do and just how it could change a life. Bottling up everything led to unexplainable actions, like the story of her life had been. Hate had driven her, until she could not make herself hate any longer. Hate was a powerful yet momentary thing; and only in a second could it make or break the rest of a life. She had turned it into something else, justice. She was not a success story or anything of that kind. But she had rewritten her doomed future and did something with it. It wasn't necessarily wholesome; joining a band of murderers. But it had saved her from a void of emptiness with nothing to drive her soul. What the boy was distressed about was unknown to her, but she had agreed to look out for him; in times exactly like this. 

"So, where are you off to?" She asked, not wanting to invade his privacy right off. She would get there but she didn't need his attitude growing larger. Instead, she walked beside him; giving him no choice in the matter. He had come from out of the territory, something that greatly worried her. What had happened? But more concerning, what had he done? The fire burned great inside him; which almost mirrored herself at his age. It only grew worse with nothing to snuff it out but self will. Right now, he had no will to let go of it. And it would destroy him, no matter what he said.

The anger he felt only seemed to grow with each step taken, the strong emotion overwhelming him. He could feel his skin burning beneath his thick coat, an oddity given the cool weather. He’d yet to realize that it wasn’t truly heat he was feeling, but his anger attempting to let itself out. His skin crawled and burned, and he itched to tear into something. Somehow, someway, he’d managed to contain such impulses and kept himself from lashing out at whatever was closest to him—an unsuspecting tree, perhaps. Still, it did not dull what he was feeling. Eventually, he started to hear a thumping sound in his ears. It was loud but rhythmic, constant and evenly spaced. He didn’t know that he was hearing the blood rushing through his veins, nor that the constant beat was his own heart. No, the only thing he knew was that it’d ended up blocking out all other sounds, leaving him virtually deaf as he trampled through the dark woods.

Even his vision seemed to dim, having become blinded by unshed rage. He hadn’t heard or seen Nemesis approach, but her voice was able to snap him out of his dangerous state. Not entirely, of course, but just enough to have him seeing and hearing correctly once more. Due to that, it took a second to process her query, but once he had he shot her a look. “Nowhere,” the boy answered, voice low and tone dry. Alexander stopped dead in his tracks right then, eyes remaining on the dark woman. “Where are you off to?” Xan’s gaze narrowed, the suspicion he felt easily readable from his eyes alone. He couldn’t think of a reason as to why she would seek him out, or approach him if she’d happened across him at random. The wolves of Blackfeather weren’t supposed to care about emotions and stuff, right? Try as he might, but he couldn’t think of any logical reasoning for Nem concerning herself with his actions.

It seemed like she managed to breach Xan's first line of defense, ignoring everything but his own hate. Still, it was evident he had not calmed completely but to an extent she could at least talk to him. "I think I might just scout this way, maybe pick off some deer for the cache," Her answer was vague, keeping in mind she had no real reason to be traveling in that particular direction. It was really an excuse to get Xan to let out what was on his mind before he resorted to violence. Yet, she didn't want to make it seem like she was trying to invade his problems or any of the sort. 

Instead, she change the subject to something more approachable than her business seeking him out. "I hear you have started to train with Damien. Why don't you tell me about it?" Her tone was genuinely interested. Something told her Xan wouldn't like being told or shown things he couldn't already do, as an insult to his higher warrior power. It would be interesting to hear what he said about it. The more she knew about him and his perspective, the better. "No doubt one day you will be teaching the next generation how to fight, it must be exciting to learn while you're still young," The topic was open for debate, and she wanted it to be. Bit by bit, he would be letting a bit of his anger out; a little bit of whatever he held simmering inside of him. Let it be anger or hate, all she wanted was for him to let go even just a smidge. Anything would lessen the harmful load he was burying inside of his soul.

Xan didn't particularly like the answer he'd been given. Of all the directions she could have gone in, all the paths she could have traveled across, she'd just had to take the one that would lead her to him. "You'll probably have better luck elsewhere," he voiced, but he didn't actually know if that were true or not. Hunting wasn't something he was all that interested in, usually, so he'd never paid much mind to the large prey within the woods or where they were more likely to be found. What he did know, however, was that he didn't want to be followed around by the obsidian woman, and would say whatever was necessary in order to get her to leave. "I don't think there's any deer this way," he added, throwing her a sidelong glance to check if she'd leave or not.

Instead of leaving, as he'd been hoping she would, Nemesis moved on to a different topic. He let out an inaudible sigh, coming to terms with the fact that he would probably be unable to get her to leave him be. "There's nothing to tell," he answered, focusing his gaze on the space in front of him. "We haven't really started anything yet." It should have disappointed him, but it didn't. He felt nothing towards the matter, not even neutrality, just... emptiness. His emotions had gone haywire, and didn't linger on things that they should. He found his gaze narrowing at her at the mention of him someday being a teacher, pulling him away from the lack of concern he felt towards everything. "What next generation?" he questioned. He knew in order for another generation to arrive, he or the alpha's children would have to grow up and have whelps of their own. He felt he would never do such a thing, and didn't really care about what the other two had planned. "I'm not teaching anyone. Ever."

Xan's reaction was better than she had imagined, he didn't snap at her but tired to deter her away from him. She had expected that much, yet she wouldn't give in. "Maybe, but I think I'll just go this way until I find some," She spoke with honesty, for she really didn't feel like changing her direction all together. "Besides, if I do there will be some for you," She tried to bring forward the upside to her little quest. Maybe it would be good for Xan to hunt with her, and hopefully let out some of the frustration he was carrying with him. 

The sigh she earned let her know that he knew perfectly well she wasn't leaving. Her ears flickered while her brow crinkled in confusion. Xan's lack of excitement must have meant he wasn't exactly having the best time with training. When she had met him, he was more than eager to become the best warrior there ever was, but now, he just seemed.. out of it. There had been a spark in his eyes when he had arrived at Blackfeather but it had gone, replaced with an emptiness she found unsettling. 

"What do you mean?" The question asked itself, though she knew exactly what had stopped him from having any fun. Xan's lack of respect for authority would become his problem, she had once predicted. And she knew perfectly well that Damien would not condone disrespect from anyone. "You know, you can't become what you want to be unless you put effort into it," Her head leaned sideways as her eyes swiveled to meet Xan. "There must be something you have done that interests you, even if it isn't practicing with Damien," She hoped that one day Xan would find what they called a "healthy outlet" for his determination that had gone somewhere. There was nothing worse than a waste of potential. "Oh come on, ordering around little beings that will blindly do anything you say doesn't spark any interest?" She joked, knowing fully that a Xan dictatorship would look quite funny as they paraded around Blackfeather.

It was official; he couldn't get rid of her.

His attempt to steer her off in another direction had not gone as planned at all, seeing as she'd shot it right down. Seemed she was determined to try and catch a meal in the very same direction he wished to go in. Though, secretly, he knew that wasn't really the case. She was there for him, he knew. Whether it be to bug him or do whatever, he couldn't tell, but he was pretty confident in his belief that his being there was the cause behind her being there. Troublesome, really, considering he'd been looking forward to spending some time alone. He enjoyed being alone, it supplied him with the only wolf he would ever need and could always count on—himself.

Xan stopped dead in his tracks, head turning and eyes narrowing in on her face. "I mean exactly what I said," he retorted, tone far less than amicable. "I met Damien, he offered to train me, and that was the end of it. So far I've learned more from his brother than him." That might have been because he'd met Cicero first, but details like that didn't matter at all to him at the moment. His rationality had abandoned him after his encounter with his sister, leaving him wandering around like some unpredictable, empty shell of himself. That didn't seem to be enough to have him be left alone, however, for more words were said. "You think I don't know that?" He knew effort had to be given, that much was obvious, but where was he to begin? He couldn't very well go out and just spar with every living thing that crossed his path, and the shadow meant to train him clearly had better things to do. He was alone with himself, as usual.

"Nothing interests me anymore." Lie. He'd lied to her unintentionally, but hadn't gone back to correct himself. Currently, he was only interested in finding a dark, quiet hole he could hide himself away in until things had resolved themselves—until his sister had returned to his side, where she belonged. Such was only a dream for him, though, as he couldn't get away from Nemesis. Even if he somehow managed to slip away from her, deep down, he knew she'd easily be able to find him again. So, for the time being, he remained there, frowning at her sentences. "The next generation would have to be my kids, or Burke's grandchildren," he began, deciding to explain his reasoning for answering the way he had. "I am never having kids." They'd only be disappointed in who their dad was, and would definitely choose their mom over him when the time came for them to split apart (because as far as he was concerned, that happened to every family). "And I don't want anything to do with Burke's family."