Wolf RPG

He hadn’t found Arielle the day of the hunt. And now she was gone. @Aventus had probably tried to explain her absence to his sons but Atreus certainly didn’t understand it. No matter how roundly his father might have punished him for his insolence that day, the boy could not help but cling to the only two wolves left who mattered to him.

But Aventus was a busy man, with other duties besides tending to his young. And they were old enough to look after themselves at the rendezvous site. While the Bitan was away hunting today, Atreus stuck close to @Ancelin for a while before eventually wandering away toward the far side of the clearing. There he discovered a discarded strip of rawhide sitting in the dry summer grass.

He turned rapidly when he heard footfalls, prepared to defend his discovery against the cousins he loathed. It was bad enough that they all had to share the rendezvous site. Just the thought put his teeth on edge, instantly pulling his mouth into a scowl.

But the moment he saw it was only Ancelin, Atreus’s body and face both relaxed. He twitched his tail, jerking his muzzle to invite his brother closer. If he wanted the piece of dried meat, he could take it. Atreus had decided he wasn’t that interested.

Sighing, he took a seat, eyes still resting on his litter mate as he randomly mused in his childish, disgruntled way, Ance, why’s everythin’ suck?

She sucks, Atreus replied contrarily.

His eyes narrowed when Ancelin suggested they go exploring together. Now why would he want to do that? Why did his brother want to do that? One of them had tried to murder him. Why did nobody seem to remember that? Hell, they hadn’t even cared much the day of. In any case, the others were guilty by association. He snorted at the thought of fraternizing with any of their lot.

How come you like dem? he countered his litter mate’s question, his expression mildly curious but mostly disdainful.

That term meant nothing to Atreus, so he only stared blankly. Of course, he knew they were extended kin of some kind but he didn’t see why this fact should overrule his entirely reasonable hatred, particularly where it concerned Masquerade.

He frowned thoughtfully when Ancelin pointed out that their aunt had punished her daughter’s misdeed. He glared at a point over his brother’s shoulder, ears twitching as his litter mate’s small voice continued filling them, now with reasoning Atreus could actually follow somewhat.

Capturing his sibling’s eye again, Atreus pointed out, You an’ me an’ dad can hunt together, making a point to enunciate correctly to avoid sounding childish. We don’t need them…

To prove his point, Atreus motioned for Ancelin to follow and began to march around the perimeter of the rendezvous site, searching for something they could hunt, just the two of them.

Time passed and Masquerade withdrew from the daily goings-on of the pack, only emerging from her retreat beneath the pine when summoned by one adult or another. She was nothing if not submissive, though she felt most comfortable lurking in her hideout, keeping to herself (and her army of cicada shells). She preferred to observe the others without directly engaging with them.

From her little foxhole, she watched Ancelin and Atreus, catching snatches of their conversation. She didn’t need to hear his vitrolic words to know that Atreus loathed her. He made it abundantly clear. Strangely, Masque didn’t fault him. She had nearly killed him, after all. She wished she could make things right between them, yet she didn’t know how.

Anyhow, it suited her to avoid him and his brother as well. “We don’t need them…” she heard Atreus say and, as if cued, Masquerade slunk backward, disappearing into the brush.

Yeah? Atreus’s confusion was evident in his inflection; he would’ve thought that much was obvious.

Ancelin didn’t press it, so neither did Atreus. They continued striding along the fringes of the rendezvous site, the darker boy eager to pinpoint a scent, any scent.

Says who? he wanted to know when Ancelin insisted they needed a minimum of three hunters.

But he didn’t give his brother a chance to reply. Rather, the mouse that ran across his paw when he idly nosed a small log they passed did not. Caught by surprise, Atreus did not attempt to snap at it until it made it over his foot and began scurrying right toward Ancelin.

His brother was quicker to the draw, executing the rodent with a snap of his teeth. Atreus pulled up short, his momentary annoyance quickly superseded by his affectionate pride in his brother’s accomplishment. Besides, Ancelin had just proved his point.

See? Who needs three people? he said, smirking fondly at his sibling.

Ancelin chose that moment to reveal an interesting fact to Atreus. He met the confession with a blink, then his smirk slowly grow into something of a Cheshire grin. A huff of laughter escaped him.

Good. I’m glad you bit her. Wish I’d got a taste, Atreus mused rather darkly before pointing a toe at the mouse and asking, You gonna eat that?

The instant Ancelin pushed the mouse toward him, Atreus snatched it off the ground, tore it in half and promptly gulped down both halves. He was licking his lips noisily when his brother made his cryptic comment. The darker Bearn’s mouth grew still as his sharp eyes fixed on his brother’s face.

What do you mean? he pressed, eager to pick Ancelin’s brain.

He felt a flash of disappointment when Ancelin didn’t immediately suggest they track down Masquerade and perform a little bloodletting. He should’ve known better, based on his brother’s earlier remarks. Atreus glanced away, frowning.

But then he brought his gaze back, brow scrunched a little in thought. He wanted Masque’s blood for quite a specific reason: payback for harming him. What compelled his brother to make such macabre remarks? Atreus wasn’t overly fussed about it. In fact, he was morbidly curious.

What do you mean? he repeated before guessing, You wanna drink someone’s blood?

Ancelin quickly and emphatically denied any interest in ensanguination. He clarified what he’d meant and Atreus arched a brow. It began as a skeptical expression, though it quickly grew to one of intrigue. Maybe his brother didn’t want to literally drink someone’s blood but he certainly sounded bloodthirsty all the same.

Atreus flexed his toes in the dirt, moistened a little by the mouse’s ichor. Ancelin’s suggestion evoked an aggression inside him, though he found the idea of pursuing anyone but Masquerade sort of unsatisfying. He didn’t like many other members of the pack, yet brutalizing one of them wouldn’t quench his own appetite for revenge.

Maybe, he said noncommittally, voice lowering to a mutter as he added, Definitely don’t wanna piss off dad.

It seemed an especially bad idea now that Arielle was gone. That thought made Atreus frown as he was reminded of their mother’s absence and its effects on their family, winnowed down to the three of them. They both really ought to stay on Aventus’s good side.

But one day in the future, when he was grown and could throw his weight around a bit more relistically, he fully intended to bring Masquerade to justice for what she’d try to do to him. He’d do it with or without Ancelin’s help—quite likely without, going by today’s conversation.

Until the moment his brother said the words, Atreus had never once entertained the thought of leaving the rise. He momentarily forgot why Ancelin had suggested such a thing, his mind blowing wide open as he considered what sorts of adventures might be at stake outside of the pack’s territory.

But he quickly realized Aventus surely wouldn’t stand for that and whined, But dad’ll kick our butts if we try to leave, won’t he, especially now. Maybe if we wait a while and behave ourselves, we can go, he thought aloud, the emphasis heavily sarcastic.

If staying in line would get them on their father’s good side though, maybe he would loosen the leash a bit. And if they bided their time, they would get older anyway, which meant more freedom, whether or not the Bitan liked it. A bit of a Cheshire smile began creeping along Atreus’s face.