Wolf RPG

He promised himself, no matter how bad the pain was, no matter how much blood dripped from the wounds on his body that he wold not utter a single sound that was fueled by pain. His limbs throbbed as he ran, tough pads held as he moved across sharp stones. His hear pounded furiously against his chest and he felt like someone had ripped his lungs out of his body but still let him live. The resolve and determination that kept him on his paws, that kept him going was coming from the Roman part of him, it was the part that he cherished and hated most and it was apparently the most useful part of him right now. It was also the goal in mind, to find his brother that kept him moving with the speed of an eagle, he would not die if he couldn't find his brother. He knew he would only let himself relax or fade away to the realms of the underworld when he was able to see, touch and know his brother again.

He was thankful that his father had taught him other languages other than latin, he was surprised that Aku taught anything other than plain fighting but everything the sadistic bastard taught him came to use now and he was grudgingly grateful but again, he wouldn't be in this state had it not been for him. Blood matted his thick agouti coat and stormy eyes scanned the unfamiliar terrain warily, his legs somehow managing to keep his body upright. Food and water was first priority right now because how in the name of Jupiter could he find his brother if he wasn't even living? In the distance came a faint quacking, the agouti yearling paused, his ears swiveling towards the sound, his tongue licking his dry lips as he broke into a sprint.

His prediction correct for it was indeed a lake, with the annoying ducks quacking and giving him a massive headache. As if he didn't have enough things bothering him now. He was sure if anyone was following him, they didn't even need to concentrate to find his tracks. The blood trails on the ground would lead anyone to him. The Roman somehow gracefully crouched down and began lappng at the water quickly, the only thing that mattered how was to get as much liquid into his body. Moments later, he began retching and the water he inhaled spilled from his jaws onto the ground. Breathing heavily he dipped his muzzle into the water and drank carefully.

He was losing blood and he knew he needed something to stop the flow. The cobwebs he had used, binding them roughly to his body had vanished when he was running and he was in no mood to fetch new ones. Because the only thought that registered in his fuzzy mind was to find his sibling.

The spatters of blood upon the ground was what drew him forward. He had never been one to explore so thoroughly prior to his reign as a leader—perhaps it was the itch of his paws that kept him firmly in place.. for he knew the DeMonte wanderlust was very much a real issue, and while he had experienced before.. he knew he could not leave now. Not after Bazi had simply skipped off in to the sunset to go find whatever answers it was she sought. She had left him, and the promise she had given to return a full moon cycle later rung hollowly in his mind – empty words to fulfill was was likely an empty promise.

At first, he had believed he would simply hand her rank back to her when she returned, if she should demand it. Yet now.. knowing how eagerly she had cast aside her pack mates to seek out those that had left them behind, he was not so sure.

Nor was he entirely sure he would keep the pack here, waiting for her return either. Neverwinter Forest called to him and as each day passed when the moon would rise within the midnight sky, he knew the call was getting harder and harder to ignore. But he would not leave without the pack.. and if they did not want to go.. then he truly had no say in the matter.

His strides were long as he followed the trail that lead him further from pack borders. He was familiar with Duck Lake, but not the bloodied silhouette that drank greedily from its depths. Slowing his pace, he curled a lip in distaste as the beast hurled the contents of their stomach upon the ground.. Lovely.

The mystery of the blood was solved, and Scimitar in that moment lost his interest. Debating whether or not to approach or simply turn away, he paused for a moment, his creamy paws gripping the ground with indecision.

The bloodied Roman might be injured, wounded, bleeding but that didn't mean his senses wasn't working, or the instincts forced upon him by his father. His ears caught the sound of faint footsteps and the scent of a wolf, an unknown wolf, probably from a pack. Disappointed, he couldn't find any trace of his brother on there until, his nose searched, layers of layers of scents but still not his brother but then it was there. Extremely, extremely faint, a month old? But it was there and this wolf might be able to give him some answers though he doubted he would say it in front of a ragged beast. He drank deeply and carefully before lifting his head and diving gracefully into the lake, the water soaked into his agouti fur and moments later he broke through the surface and swam back towards the shore.

Dripping wet, the dried blood off his fur although he knew the blood would soon start flowing again but for now, he was back to the old handsome yearling again. He rose to his paws, muscles rippling from underneath his agouti fur. He was strong and he was sure he rivaled the male in front of him in strength, if not speed. Stormy sea green eyes sought out the turquoise of the older male's briefly, lingering for a moment before his gaze dropped. If he wanted answers, he might as well show a bit of respect. Dipping his head briefly, he spoke in a softly accented voice, remembering to speak English instead of Latin. "Hello bone vir, have you seen my brother? His name is Hadrian and you smell of him, if faintly."

He might have said some words wrong but he was sure that the other male would be able to understand what he was talking about. Briefly, green eyes looked at the male's blue ones again, a steely look of determination and roman resolve evident in them along with a faint but lingering trademark glint of the Angelus Mortis bloodline. He refrained from using the I'm worse than you are look for he needed answers from this wolf. It was only for a brief second before he averted his gaze.

Had he known the thoughts of the injured yearling, he might have taken him for a little ‘test drive’ of sorts – especially the way his eyes attempted to hold his own sea green gaze. Had he not known any better, he would have swore those were DeMonte eyes, much like his own.

The words that were offered to him only drew a shake of disagreement from his muzzle, his broad shoulders lifting in a shrug as he moved closer, closing some of the distance between them as he inspected the rogue. “Afraid not,” he corrected, his tail lashing through the air once as a burst of autumn wind ruffled his cinnamon pelt. “I don’t know a ‘Hadrian.’”

Had he been more interested, he might have allowed his eyes to search the boy – looking for the wounds that had left a trail of blood. Water simply could not soak off blood like that without it bubbling forth again until properly closed or healed, and yet he saw nothing. It mattered little, Swiftcurrent Creek held no healer.. and Scimitar certainly owed no lone wolf any favors. His time and devotion served his pack, and them alone.

He frowned slightly at the answer he received but it did not discourage the young male for he knew his brother was an expert in hiding his true identity and he must have gone by other names but which? Nox or Shadow? Or something that he made up along the way when he felt that these two names would only make him remember his horrible past? Yet if this wolf knew his brother, he did not wish to reveal his true identity for that would just ruin all of his brother's efforts. He needed to choose wisely now and think like his brother. Which name would he have chose to use when he left? The Roman knew the answer now.

The agouti felt the blood seeping out of his wounds again and he knew he had limited time. Not really liking the pack wolf so close to himself, he felt the need to back away but resisted it. This wasn't his father here, instead he drew a deep breath and spoke again, in the same softly accented voice. "What about a wolf named Shadow?" he asked in return, hoping for a look of recognition in those turquoise eyes. He lifted his head ever so slightly to look at the older male.

The name that came next was what truly drew Scimitar’s attention to him – Shadow. He withheld any form of emotion.. a disapproving cant of his muzzle, a sardonic snort.. Revealing nothing, he simply blinked at the other, his shoulders lifting in a shrug before he gave a small nod. “I haven’t seen your brother in a few weeks now. I’m not sure where he is,” he rumbled, not in an unfriendly tone, but nor did his voice welcome open questions.

The words he spoke were truth – Scimitar’s brief interlude in the meadow where he had come across the silver heckler trying to toy with new Creek members had been awhile ago now, and briefly, he wondered just what the man was up to. As much as he wanted to not care.. the lingering doubt shadowed his mind. Shadow had made it clear of his distaste for his eviction, and the agouti male wondered if the Creek was simply no longer worth his time.. or if he was planning on stirring more trouble.

The Greek Roman watched with keen eyes as the older male blinked at him and shrugged but he knew immediately that the wolf had seen his brother. So Hadrian now went by the name of 'Shadow' did he? “I haven’t seen your brother in a few weeks now. I’m not sure where he is,” said the pack wolf. His tone seemed to have changed ever so slightly, his voice now closed, unwelcoming. Immediately he wondered what kind of things his brother did to piss this wolf off, or maybe the whole pack off. Back at home, Noctem Vagus] he always had this smirk-filled, snarky, arrogant-like behavior but deep inside, the yearling knew he was caring and full of love. Just scarred by their father.

Despite the unwelcoming tone of the other's voice, he asked softly "I mean no disrespect, sir, but how was Had-Shadow when you last saw him?" he paused again and dipped his head. "Did anything happen between your pack and him?" he asked in a quiet tone, respectfully, hoping to at least receive a few answers. He did not expect a lecture about his older brother from such a stoic, well-masked male. (Although he still wasn't as good as a Roman)

The other was trying to delve further in to something – the next slew of questions hit the marker of too personal in Scimitar’s mind, and his wolfish eyebrows lifted – refraining from curling his lip instead. He would have initially pegged it as simple concern for his brother, to which the cinnamon male would have provided him with information to the best of his knowledge. But the sudden question asking if something had happened to Shadow and his pack.. it seemed a bit further than than mere concern for his brother, and bordering the edge of complete suspicion. Had Shadow sent a spy to the Creek now? It was something he would do – and Scimitar knew this, because it was something he himself had been considering doing.

“Like I said, he’s not here nor have I seen him in a few weeks now. If you’re looking to do some recon on my pack, you’re crossing a dangerous line, kid,” he murmured, his tail lashing through the air as his muzzle lifted higher – he was massive in his own right, and if a yearling thought he was going to push his weight around, he had another thing coming. “And if you’re looking to hear about his well-being, you’re still crossing a dangerous line. I gave you the information I know. If I do see him again, I will have his tongue this time. Perhaps when you find him, you can tell him that.”

The Greek Roman didn't mean it that way. “Like I said, he’s not here nor have I seen him in a few weeks now. If you’re looking to do some recon on my pack, you’re crossing a dangerous line, kid," he had just wanted to know if Shadow was the same Hadrian he knew. He lowered his head, tail swaying at his ankles. Roman pride kept him from submitting any further though he backed away slightly. Posture submissive, sea green gaze on the ground, refraining from using any overly sarcastic comments for he felt this male hated that kind of thing. "Apologies, sir. I did not mean to pry, I just wanted to see if he was the same wolf I knew." he said the last part quietly.

“And if you’re looking to hear about his well-being, you’re still crossing a dangerous line. I gave you the information I know. If I do see him again, I will have his tongue this time. Perhaps when you find him, you can tell him that.” So this wolf and his brother had history didn't they? It seems like this wolf hated, or disliked Hadrian with passion so what had passed between them. Why had this hatred bloomed? Did his (half) brother used extreme sarcastic comments and a snarky attitude to this wolf, for the older male had said something about having his bro's tongue and that itself did not sound good at all.

Scipio was sure of his brother's abilities to defeat this male but he also knew that both of them would probably not come out unscathed. He nodded slightly but did not speak again. If this male hated his brother, did he dislike him too? Simply because of his relative? It seemed a bit unfair to him, to discriminate someone because of who they were related to. He loved his brother dearly for all the times he had protected him, but there was no reason to hold something Hadrian did against himself when he didn't even know what happened!

The yearling was quick to back down -- his form pushing lower in submission now and he seemed to back peddle over his words. Whether he realized how terrible his prying made him sound, or whether he realized Scimitar was on to his foolish game, the older wolf did not know.. nor did he particularly care.

"If he's the same guy you knew, I'm surprised no one's dealt with him long before now," he growled out, his eyes remaining narrowed upon the youth. If the boy was anything like his brother, there was a reason he was already bleeding all over Teekon Wilds -- someone else hadn't appreciated his attitude.

He waited a moment, his eyes glowering at the other before he shifted his weight, waiting to see if the tawny wolf had anything else to say. Otherwise, as far as Scimitar was concerned, this discussion was far from over and his time had been more than wasted.. despite the unsettling knowledge that Shadow now had family to back him up in the area.

"If he's the same guy you knew, I'm surprised no one's dealt with him long before now," growled the agouti male, his turquoise eyes narrowed. Now the half-breed's temper was slowly rising. Sure, he might be a bit prying at the beginning but he didn't mean to and this, this stupid piece of dipshit, this stulte kept on growling and spitting words of hatred and stupidity towards his brother. His brother who had done nothing but protect him from their father's wrath, who suffered lethal injuries for him but did not blame him for anything, instead continued to help and take the blame. He was the best brother anyone could ask for and this barbarian here, who knew absolutely nothing about him, knew nothing about how he had suffered, was insulting him. The barbarian probably had a good childhood, raised by loving wolves, never purposely tore apart by his own father. Never watched a brother almost dying by the paws of their own blood as his own mother watched coldly on.

No, though they were both younger than this male, they had encountered a lot more in their lives than he ever had. The genius or madman glint in his eye, the trait of the Angelus Mortis line, seem to brighten and glow just a bit more than usual as he lifted his head to gaze at the barbarian, "You will be surprised." he whispered softly, a new quiet strength emitting off him.

It would seem he had sparked an ember that could release into a fire, and as the growling words slipped past the male's jaws, Scimitar felt himself lift even more, wondering if the yearling was stupid enough to take on a wolf whom was older with experience, and uninjured.

He sure as hell wanted to find out.. And with this wolf's interest in Shadow, it would serve as the potential to send the silver male a little message as well. "Enlighten me," he challenged in turn, his own tone delivering the hint of a growl. It was with this where his stance shifted -- pride took his figure, and he held himself in dominance over the other.

A challenge, if there ever was one. Survival of the fittest surpassed brute strength.. Intelligence played a large role in it, and if this fool was so stupid as to challenge him.. Well, the world would be better without once he tore his throat out.

"Enlighten me," Scimitar challenged, he took upon a stance that displayed pride and dominance. A soft laugh slipped from the halfbreed's lips as he pulled himself to his full height, there was no need for fake pride here. A Roman would take this challenge, however a true Roman who had brains would not fight here. To him, it was not cowardice to back away from a challenge, but raw bravery. Everyone wanted their pride, and declining and backing away would steal all their is from the.

Instead, a grim smile slipped onto his lips. "There is no honor in fighting an injured enemy, my lord." he said softly. "But I do not doubt that a man like you will not hesitate to strike an injured opponent, for barbarians never have honor and so I shall take my leave." Scipio turned and began making his way away from whatever pack that resided here, raised to his full height. The halfbreed turned his head to gaze back briefly, "Well met, my lord." a sardonic smile graced his lips.

The other took his challenge as a request to fight – and then decided he was the barbarian. A low laugh escaped him at the mention of honor, and with a gleam in his eye, he gave a slight shake of his muzzle. “Either you are a hypocritical fool, or you have been gone from your brother’s side too long – I’m not sure which. But there is no such thing as honor where you’re brother is concerned.. he does not know the meaning of it.” No, Shadow was too much of a priss.. skulking after Swiftcurrent Creek members, spreading hints of lies for discord within their ears, and then refusing to make the simple statement of what it was he had told.

The family held no honor, and if they thought they did, it was certainly something that would have bruised his sides from the laughter that would escape him. But everyone needed to hear a joke once in awhile, and Scimitar could indeed enjoy this one the male had presented.

“You come find me when you’re all healed up. We’ll see how well you can dance.” With that, he gave a nod to the yearling, unfearful of turning his back on the youth – for he was but a cocky boy, who would learn quite swiftly in the realm of Teekon Wilds that arrogance would get him nowhere.