Her paws feel heavy, and every step is taken with a great deal of focus. Rise and fall, left then right... it's a chore within itself. The pale princess-- perhaps queen, by now-- is overwhelmed. First by Casmir, then by Lasher, then-- selfishly-- by the weight of a solo rank. Before she was worried, sure, but now the pack as a whole rests squarely on her shoulders, and her shoulders alone, and she's not sure how to handle it.
She knows that she has Osprey as her beta and esteemed elder-- but she doesn't feel comfortable leaning on her for constant support. Would it then, at that point, not be more accurate to call Osprey the alpha, and Aria her struggling student? she was unsure.
Aria walks now through the sentinels, her head as high as she can manage with the current circumstances. She stares above at the newly budding trees and, for a moment, smiles. Lasher has done this for them-- she knows. His soul has traveled down into the heart of Donnelaith and from him new life has sprung. She silently thanks him for his gift, but her smile fades again as her gaze falls back ahead.
He limped forward – the lackluster grace in his form spurned more from the depression that grounded him rather than the injury he sustained. Deirdre and Lucani had patched him up – the swarthy man had surely thought himself dead.. but it would seem that fate had been reserved for his father.
No sooner did the thought enter his mind did he brush it away, unable to grasp that the world still existed without the steadfast Lasher. He did not know where it left the wolves of Donnelaith -- Emaleth had disappeared in to the night, and Constantine had left his sister to her grief. Perhaps one day she would return to them – but none of them were in any shape to chase down the little witch when she did not want to be found.
Now, the only Mayfair’s of Lasher’s remaining blood within the tall sequoia’s were himself, Eilidih and Deirdre. Casmir had not yet made face.. and the swarthy wolf was uncertain if his brother ever would.
His thoughts intricate, and yet so detached, he barely noticed the white ghost before him – only until he glanced up, wincing slightly as raw pain from his infected wound shook upward his leg and clamped his chest. He recognized her – but he did not know her. Aria – the now alpha of his father’s legacy.
Had Aria not scented him before she saw him, she would have mistaken him for Casmir and ran to him right away-- but she does. Her ears perk and she turns her head to look at him, blinking in vague confusion as she spots his wounds. Had he been injured recently? she can't remember for the life of her, but-- for some reason-- doesn't scold herself for not knowing, not this time. She feigns a weak smile, her lips thin and pressed tightly together.
"Constantine," she says, her tail flicking once or twice behind her. She doesn't bother with any kind of gesture to demand dominance or respect, she instead turns completely around to face him and bows her head to him. She loves Lasher just as much, but to a stranger, she figures it is only right to show her sympathy for the loss of his father.
She looked upon him once more -- he had not seen her since his arrival, and he's met with the same blank stare as he had been given before. His presence alone seemed to bother her, and even as she speaks his name in a formal greeting, the wave of unwelcome lingers upon him once more -- except this time, he feels his own ire for her presence begin to build.
She was at the helm of his father's legacy, and this was how she treated her pack mates?
His own muzzle opens, his eyes flashing dangerously as he is about to voice this opinion quite openly -- when suddenly the ivory dove lowers her muzzle to him -- a gesture of sympathy. He snaps his jaws with a sharp click, confusion now seeping past him, and the distinct suppression of emotions tempts to brim from his very soul as he thinks of his father's body, lying cold in the ground.
His words are lost, now, though, and with a shudder to keep the loss within, he swiftly directs his eyes away from her, his ears falling upon his skull.
He looks away, and she raises her head slowly to see him again. Her ears fall to her own skull, and she steps towards him. "I.. I won't ask if you're okay," she says quietly, her white eyes dilated as they hesitate to find his gaze. She knows that they are not well aquainted-- and that is her own fault, for she has been distant from the pack as of late. But she wants to help, and to get to know him-- and she assumes that he might need it more than ever now.
"But-- if you need anything, I'm here for you," she adds, smiling weakly at him. She had her own problems, but she couldn't be so selfish all the time.
He did not know what to make of her -- the gentle words, offered in what logic could only dictate as the beckoning of friendship, and yet somehow, given the cold demeanor in which he had witnessed her treat him and others up until this point, it felt almost fake.
His jaw tightens in that moment, locking as he determines what to say next. Maturity would insist he offer gratitude to her words, and offer the same in return. But raw emotion and loss has pulled away his need for peace in that moment, and it's with this he sets his narrowing eyes upon her. "I don't even know you.. nor do I know what connection you've had to my father." He paused then, shifting his weight, adjusting his injured forelimb. His jaws open once more, and he's about to call her out on the coldness she presents to him, and what he has witnessed of her, but instantly, it does not seem worth it, and once more, his jaws slide shut with a light click. "Nevermind. It doesn't even matter."
Aria winces away from him, stepping back and lowering herself slightly. His words come as harsh and unclear-- she has no idea why he would be so rude to her. Perhaps it's just grief, but, even she has yet to lash out at anyone for being nothing but kind. Instead of rearing up and returning his anger, she shakes her head. "No.. no please, you're right... I'm just--" she sucks in a breathe, her sentences choppy and obnoxious. "Please, tell me. Whatever is bothering you, I'd like to know. I don't want that to be how you think of me." Her ears flatten, but her tail wags hopefully behind her. In another quick effort to fix whatever she'd broken already, she speaks again.
"My name Aria-- I was your fathers Beta and Co-alpha, and I respected him like a father," she says quietly, looking up at him with her moon-like eyes.
His eyes follow her as she recoils at his words -- Anore Anneriwock of Tartok would have witnessed such an act as weakness and submission, and as such, unfit for her rank. But Anore had no place here, and as a gentle breeze swept past him in that moment, Constantine would feel his father's very soul whisper to his ear then, remind him that he was a Mayfair, and these darker thoughts held no purchase here.
He wilted then, as if the touch of breeze had been as connected as the touch of Lasher's fatherly nose upon his cheek, and his gaze softened in that moment. "I'm sorry. You've avoided me since the day I came here-- I wasn't sure what you thought of my family." He had not known the girl to look to Lasher as a father as well, and now the man tipped his muzzle downward, revealing his own submission to her.
He retracts his coldness, and in return Aria raises herself to her natural stance. She breathes out slowly in relief, but her gaze does not leave his. Her ears flick downwards slightly and she sighs, shifting weight to one side. "I adore your family, I have nothing but pleasent thoughts," she says quietly. With a reluctant gaze upwards towards the branches of the trees, she inhales heavily. "Casmir left not long before you arrived. I mistook you for him the day you arrived, hence my rude dissappointment," she explains quickly, feeling it is somewhat necessary. "Otherwise, I have been relatively distant from the pack. For a while I searched for Casmir, and afterwards for food and perhaps a new home for the pack," she adds, licking her muzzle. "I'm sorry I made you think that."
He listened to her carefully, and had his father been there physically he knew the swarthy man would have chided him with a knowing impish-ness that be fitted Lasher alone. There was clearly a story there, about she and her brother.. but it was not something he questioned, and so instead the youthful man bows his head even lower. "I see," he offers then, his words quieting. "A truce, then?" He was not going to maintain a childish vendetta when the girl was clearly held in favor by his family -- if anything, he found he wanted to know more of why they had taken her in.
Thankful that Constatine did not ask for an explaination, Aria nods with a smile. "Of course," she says, her tail wagging behind her. "I'd love it if you would walk with me. I'm parched and would like to get to know you better," she offers, taking a step towards him. "If you have time, of course," she adds. Aria tilts her head slightly at him, studying his face with interest. He does look all too much like Casmir, but the more she stares the more she pushes the thought away-- establishing the face as someone entirely different.
She watched him, but Constantine thinks it no more as her waiting for his answer, rather than comparing him to his win. With a nod of quiet acceptance, the swarthy wolf gives a gentle shake of his pelt, moving a pace closer to lessen the distance between them. "After you," he offers then, indicating to her that she should lead the way.
It was easy enough to amend to the girl that they should get to know one another as pack, but she remained his superior, and Constantine would not forget this -- the hierarchy was not something he opposed.
She smiles, pleased that he had agreed to come with her. "Wonderful," she says, and presses on through the towering Sentenials. After a bit of walking, she glances at him, her eyes glinting in the sunlight. She knows more about him than he does about her-- mostly by assumption. Casmir and Eilidh were born at the plateau-- he must've been as well. She knows his parents-- all too well-- and has a vague understanding of his personality. After a few heartbeats of sifting through conversation starters, she decides to go for something easy.
"What interests you? Like-- what kinds of things do you do when you're not patrolling or hunting," she asks, her tail waving behind her.
They moved in a casual walk, his own pace matching hers, despite the limp that graced him now. Her question drew a tentative ear flick, and his shoulders lifted upward in a shrug before his gaze sought her out. “Right now? I’m trying to make up for time lost between my family and I since I was away.” He left it at that – more or less, the dark wolf had become a guardian of sorts to the redwoods, and he assumed he would maintain the role – the forest was full of healers, mystics, druids.. and yet they did not hold many warriors. “What about you?”
She smiles, glancing towards him and studying his face as he speaks. Deirdre and Eilidh-- and perhaps Blue Willow-- were wonderful woman, she was glad that their brother was trying to come back into their life. She nods to him and then shrugs. "I am a scout," she tells him, her tail wagging. "It isn't really my forté," she adds, "but I'm knowledgable in medicine and the art of healing. I've done a lot of helping out Eilidh and Deirdre with their gathering." She remembers the garden for a brief second and holds back a frown. It'd barely grown by the time the swarm hit-- so many lost herbs, poor Deirdre was devastated.
His muzzle tipped slightly in recognition to her words – he was not surprised by the detail of her scouting, as she had taken trips even since he had returned. It was perhaps a more admirable trade he would consider as well – but he was not keen on traveling too far from his family just yet.
“Healing seems to be a talent many have here – and something the pack seeks. Donnelaith is different from my birth pack,” he mused quietly, wondering if she had known the pack of Blacktail Deer Plateau.
She studies him curiously for a moment. "Healing is important," she tells him, "Without it we would all be in danger of infection and disease." It somewhat surprising that he seems shocked by the amount of healers within the pack-- besides, it was a trade that was passed down from Blue Willow, surely he knew that his mother would teach her daughters that.
"Well, what was admirable in your birth pack?" she asks, her ears pricking.
She seemed defensive of his choice of word, and the dark wolf studies her momentarily, considering how his words might have impacted her. Blue Willow had been their primary healer at Blacktail Deer Plateau – her talent sought by many. It was of no surprise to him she had passed these talents down to her daughters – Eilidh, Deirdre, Emaleth. If he had been around for longer, it was possible he might have learned some of the finer art of healing.. but now, with Lucani and Rowan also dabbling in the arts, he worried their ranks were made up of more healers than fighters.
Perhaps this was what his father had envisioned, being the peaceful sort.
“I agree,” he offered in return, hoping to defer any further confusion or surprise she seemed to hold from his words – perhaps their truce would only last five minutes, especially when the implication was given that he did not believe Donnelaith was admirable. “Perhaps it is my bias, as the Plateau was my birth home.. but the pack dynamic has seemed to shift since then. It feels less familial.” He paused then, his shoulders lifting in an honest shrug. “But that’s likely to be expected when one leaves their family behind to see the world and then returns. Everything changes.”
"Less familial?" she asks, her ears pricking. "Well-- what would you suggest?" she asks curiously, her head tilting gently to the side. "I'm only following the path your father had laid out-- it seems that the rest of the pack has always been keen on his leadership," she adds with a flick of her tail, "But, I am the alpha now, I'm ready to take any advice or critique you have on the pack."
It was true. Since Lasher had left she'd been an absolute wreck of emotions-- uncertainty playing a large part in all of her actions. She'd done nothing but follow Lasher's ways, falling right to his welcome to wolves who showed up at their border. Osprey was helpful, sure, but she was old and used to Lasher's ways as well. Even in all of her stress and anxiety, her desire to learn and grow shone through, her white eyes flitting to Constantine as they walk, waiting for a concept to grasp.
Constantine considered the she-wolf before him now – he had seen only a few sides of Aria since meeting her, primarily one of despondency and one of bitterness. This was new – her eagerness to take in her subordinate’s words, and he felt a sense of relief in that moment – Lasher was gone, but the pack was left in decent paws.
“I do not mean to make it sound as if the pack is so different – I am now adjusting to the changes, and it’s likely I have changed more than anything else.” He paused then, his pace slowing from their walk as he stole a glance toward her. “Blacktail Deer Plateau was not always lead by my father, nor was it his creation. Donnelaith was – and if this is the path Lasher set out before you, it is likely the customs he wished to instill in us all, and one that should be honored.” His shoulders lifted then, his gaze fixating once more to the path before them. “Of course Donnelaith would feel different to me though – my mother is gone, and now my father. Casmir is no longer with us, and Eilidh is scarce. Emaleth has gone – all I have left here is Deirdre.”
He seems to go back on what he'd said, making it seem like he'd done more change than anything. But he was here when Aria had first arrived-- the pack had been different then. "We've all changed," she says, "It's not a bad thing." He slows, and she keeps her pace for a few heartbeats to stare forward in thought before she drops back towards him. The trickling water is heard by now, showing that they are close to their destination. "I'm serious, Constantine. Lasher was not perfect, and I don't have to take your advice-- I'd just like to hear it."
Her ears then flatten for a moment, and she glances away. All he says is true for her as well, minus Blue and Emaleth, she was close with all of the Mayfair family. Their distance and disappearance was heartbreaking. "I know it may not mean much, and I will never be family, but I will not abandon this pack," she tells him, her gaze flitting to his face.
He gave a gentle nod then, his brows furrowing at the thoughts of his father. He had not considered Lasher perfect, but the man was certainly one he had looked up to, and sought the acceptance and approval from constantly. Whether his father had been prou7d of him or not had remained unspoken, and now he would be forever left to wonder if his father had always been disappointed at his decision to travel before settling.
Aria was quick to soothe that she had no intention of abandoning the pack, and with that, he gave another nod. She was youthful – pretty, as well, and it was likely she would catch the eye of a wolf sooner, rather than later. Donnelaith was a better place with her, and the swarthy man could only hope that the wolf was one within their ranks.
“Then I think that while we need to accept every healer within our ability – it might be best to cross train our wolves to other talents. Including sparring.” He paused then, casting a glance her way. "I'm not one to pretend I know much of it myself, but I feel that if a force comes our way.. we are unable to protect ourselves against it."
Aria nods as he speaks, smiling in relief that he spoke his mind. "Dante has been rather distant, but we once sparred. He's a seasoned warrior-- perhaps he would be keen on training," she offers, hoping that that's what he meant. "I'm not a very skilled fighter myself," she adds, giving a brief nod to the large, uneven patch of fur on her shoulder-- an unhealed scar from multiple wolves of the pirate pack that once threatened Donnelaith. "Thank you for sharing," she adds, giving his own shoulder a gentle nudge.
Thinking further on the situation, she knows that Eilidh probably won't be so keen on fighting-- Deirdre as well. If Emaleth hadn't disappeared, Aria felt she might've been excited to fight-- but that was not the case. Lucani was rather old, and she did not know much about Rowan and Renoir. Osprey would certainly fight as well. Her face twists in thought, wondering how well this plan would play out. "They are young," she adds, "but Osprey's children are far more active than Deirdre and Emaleth were, perhaps they'll be interested in a mercenary skill as they age."
She thanked him for sharing, and the wolf offered a humble tip of his muzzle, though remained quiet for now. She mentioned Dante as well – the only other wolf Constantine knew that held experience in battle, and likely the most suited for training any who might be interested.
She brought forward a point he had not considered then – Dante and Osprey’s children. “You make a good point,” he murmured, casting her a gentle smile. “We do not even need an army – Donnelaith is peaceful. Simply rounding experience might benefit any who are interested.”
The pair arrived at the stream, and Aria smiles to him as he speaks. She dips her head and drinks for a few moments, her tail swaying behind her. When she raises, she looks back to Constantine, nodding.
"I can call the pack for a meeting sometime soon-- I can gather some interest," she says, a small smile still visable on her features.
"Thank you for walking with me-- I'm going to try to hunt, if you'd like to join me, but you're welcome to head back," she adds, her ears cupping forward.
"I'm glad we got to talk, regardless."
fade with your post? <3