He had never seen snow before. It was not in his recent memory, so even the soft dusting on it now was a marvel to him. He trudged in it carefully, admiring every soft crunch his paws made in the larger mounds.
Ganon had been wandering into the Flatlands ever since Potema had given birth. Even though it was cold, his fur was thick from his Northern heritage, his mantle swelling into a thick ring of flame hovering over his neck. He had grown broad and strong, though still not larger than his brother. He had contented himself with that, confident in his own abilities that superceded mere size.
He was wandering for many reasons. To get away. To see the lands around him. To stretch his legs. To think. His mother had given birth to monsters and nearly killed them. He, upon seeing them, believed that she should have. But she had chased him out before he had gotten so much as a glance of their twisted bodies. Vaati had insisted they live. What infatuation he once had for his brother faded into obscurity then when he realized what a complete and utter fool he was. Why would he waste his time on such a man, attractive as he was? Bringing captives into the Woods from nonexistent Gods-know-where, starving an innocent child? He had heard that Vaati had gained his knee facial scar attempting to kill another wolf from some neighboring pack.
He sensed that it was his time to move on. He no longer belonged in Blackfeather Woods. He hadn't since he renounced their deities. It was only a matter of time. Mother would be all the better for it, losing one of her wayward sons.
The tall grasses that surrounds him blocks his peripherals, and he nearly runs into the coy wolf. He snorts in surprise, a sheepish, but amused smile briefly flashing along his face. Didn't see you there,
He doesn't recognize the young man, taking a step back as he would to any other stranger.
Looking around at his surroundings, he couldn't help but to laugh at his own obliviousness. How did he walk into this guy? He really should have seen him from leagues away. It was amazing that although he was awake, he was so thoroughly locked within his own head that he saw nothing, sensed nothing. It was amazing how the mind worked.
Ganon smirked back, watching as the snow flew from the boy's dark pelt, raining down gracefully though expelled so forcefully. He was amazed with the substance. It was cold, but soft, and when he caught it in his mouth it tasted like cold water. He knew the word for it, but not what it was. The Gods that his family worshipped could not explain them, too locked up with betrayal and insanity and being ostracized to really care for creating anything. There had to be a source of it. He looked briefly upwards and away from the boy, noting the soft gray of the clouds, lighter than the gray of rainclouds, and still weighed with potential.
His gaze only returned to the boy when he was questioned. Had the coywolf been content to merely shrug and leave, he might have left a cloud-gazing teen behind, wondering what the hell just walked into him. But Ganon had been snapped back. His mind was truly in the clouds at the moment. He shook himself, not to clear his pelt of snow, but to briefly clear his thoughts from the fog and clouds that were occupying his mind.
No,
He responded simply. Just needed a few moments away from home, yeah?
He's echoed, and Ganon's smile widens. The affirmation seems sincere, which is enough to stroke Ganon's ego for a brief moment. He has every right to be suspicious of any stranger he meets in this area, though at this point Ganon cannot be bothered by it. He does not see himself as blameless, nor does he see himself as punishable. Though he often asks himself how he could prove that to any vengeful wolves lurking nearby.
His mental attention seizes back to his own daydreaming. That obvious, huh?
He chuckled sheepishly, his shoulders hunched in an apologetic shrug. His body relaxes for a moment, and he is silent, briefly thinking before his voice rumbles again, his voice losing the previously jovial tone it had taken in mockery of his own follies. Is your pack full?
Ganon flashes another smirk at him, before his face relaxes, twisting into a more somber expression. He had been thinking about this for months, always hesitating, always finding a reason not to leave. But he knew that his home was not the same place it had once been. It was a magical place, he knew that for certain, and he knew that he could not find any other like it. But the wolves there... His family.. Well. He could not necessarily live with them any longer.
He was disappointed to hear that the younger wolf did not actually know. It would be beneficial to have a clearer grasp on the pack he may or may not join. He didn't have a preference for who or where, but simply away from home was enough criteria for him.
He should have been more suspicious of the boy's invitation. He knew the tension between Blackfeather Woods and the their neighbors, and he should have surmised that they were much craftier than they were given credit for. But the prospect of finally achieving one of his goals and finally getting away from the repressive yoke of his family's distrust and disappointment in him was too much to let slip from his hands. Might be a good idea,
He agreed, though a bit noncommittal in his wording.
I've never felt at home there. I've always been looking for a good excuse to leave, and now I have one.
It was a selfish one admittedly — to save his own hide from the coming storm. But not something anyone could fault him for. Can we set up this little appointment sooner rather than later?
maybe wrap this thread up here & i can start us a new one? :-)
Drogon does not fail to notice the noncommittal response he’s given to his offer and he listens to the older boy’s words with a terse expression upon his lips. It sounds valid enough — and point in fact is that Drogon relates a lot to the reason. It’s why he left. Yet, that doesn’t mean there is blind trust in the flame-kissed boy. He’s putting his neck on the chopping block for the safe of gaining that advantage over Blackfeather Woods and though the Ansbjørn doesn’t get the feeling that he’s being lied to it doesn’t mean he does not look to be thorough on the trek back to Moonspear. Perhaps even he would subject the dark woods boy to the inspection and interrogation of Hydra …if not The Cerberus as a whole before it goes to Charon and Amekaze. He gestures for the boy to follow him, though Drogon is careful to keep the older boy in his line of sight. “I’m Drogon,” He offers his name as a peace offering before he warns, “The upset between our packs means they’re probably going to want to question you.” Especially, Drogon thinks, because his knowledge is very recent and very fresh. “You’ll have to excuse my lack of absolute trust but I’m taking you to The Cerberus first. Pacify them, earn their approval and then you can meet the Alphas.” It seemed, to Drogon, like the safest option: to go through the two stage process just as Drogon himself had. If the flame-kissed boy was truly sincere in his desire to leave the dark woods then in the tundrian’s mind he wouldn’t care if there was a preliminary screening process; at the end of the day Drogon’s looking to cover his own ass because he realizes how wrong this could go for him if he’s not methodical and careful.
308 words
Yep!
The boy gives his name. Drogon. It sounds strong. Ganondorf.
He returns back, his body straightening when he realizes that he might be going somewhere with this. Moonspear, I take it?
He doesn't consider himself at making a mistake by attempting to join the mountain pack, though it is a little frightening to be put into the clutches of the pack that so despised him. His brother really, but by extension him. The Cerberus?
His face twists in confusion. The term is foreign to him. He wonders if it's a title for a ranking in their pack, similar to the Dark Council. There was definitely more than one of them, to be sure. Perhaps they were the Betas. He doesn't know why they had such a strange name when the Alphas did not. If I fail to pacify them, am I going to be made a prisoner?
He sees the result as a responsible reaction on their part. After all of the wolves they had ensnared in their Web it would not be surprising for one of their own to suffer the same fate. He asks the question calmly, expecting this to be the result of his meeting with the mysterious Cerberus.