The chill in the air was only a prelude of what was to come. Snow feathered the creek, and Akavir studied it with a light frown—the bow of the trees as snow draped upon the pines, the frost along the rocks. He had grown up here, but somehow, he couldn’t recall much of winter here.
The moon hung high in the afternoon sky—the reminder that night came more swiftly now, and darkness would be upon them in only hours. Still, the ebony wolf roved forward, continuing his marking of a border that housed three wolves—knowing soon, they might need to recruit more heavily.
lestan followed. his fur had at last adjusted and he had become very attuned to the creek in the last weeks. reverie was on his mind, as was amalia and ashlar and the boy kivaluk, who he hoped had continued his tracking.
lestan had not! and now he felt the restlessness. akavir's dark form moved decisively and lestan kept close and quiet, adding his own marks to their borderworld.
A muzzle swung back over his shoulder—champagne eyes falling upon the tawny brown wolf who ambled behind him, marking their claim. His countenance softened for a moment—for while Lestan’s intentions were still lost to the Mayfair, there was something to be said that the boy was still here, despite it all in the few weeks that had passed.
His pause given to allow Lestan to catch up to him, Akavir inclined his muzzle lightly in a silent greeting. “Anything of interest to report?”
lost in his thoughts, lestan startled. "no! i mean — yes. yes indeed. i met a girl near the borders here. reverie, from kvarsheim. i escorted her home. they seem kind enough. about a day away."
allies. allies for them, who very sorely needed it. lestan wondered if he should pose the same question to akavir, but did not.
Akavir’s gaze swept over the man as he stumbled over his words only for a moment—was he always like that, or was it something the frost-maned wolf tended to bring out in him? In any other circumstances it might have amused the Mayfair—right now, it still made him wonder just why Lestan was insisting on staying with he and Arric, when the man had made it more than clear he thought them to practically be barbaric.
“Kvarsheim,” he repeated, his eyes instinctively flickering away from his youthful relative and to the direction of the stones. “I met one of its leaders there when I first returned to the valley… I wanted to make my intentions to settle clear to them.” He paused, the hint of a wry smile pulling to the corner of his lips. “I think I described myself as uninterested in mischief and mayhem. Maybe I jinxed this place right then and there…” Akavir might not have had any interest in it... but it certainly seemed to follow him around these days.
akavir allowed a glimpse of himself in that moment, and lestan pulled closer, almost touched by a desperate relief. he listened raptly, then shook his head.
"those — wildcats —" the mayfair did not have a tongue for insults! "— would have made a mess of anywhere they decided to put their dirty paws."
but now he peered toward the older man. "do you love this place? you want to keep it, so we shall keep it. it is — beautiful, i think. wild. what brought you here?"
lestan was hungry for the conversation and thirsty for any touch of history, anything between he and akavir that might be familiar as family. as it stood, all they shared was a surname.
The flicker of amusement he held before sparked to a simmering grin—the ebony wolf regarding his companion with arched brows at what he assumed was as close to some expletives as maybe the youthful man gave.
Hopefully he and Arric didn’t break him too badly.
“I was born here,” he offered in compliance to the man’s thirst for knowledge. Lestan seemed keen on it—and with words of promise to help keep the land as theirs, Akavir was willing to offer what he could. What might have been a rocky start could hopefully ground itself to something more akin to trust.
“My father and mother hold land a few days from here—outside of Teekon, now. I’m hoping to rebuild what once was here.” He gave small pause, eyes skimming around. "Do I love it? Yes. But it's not worth lives to keep it."
well! that surprised him. akavir and arric had spilt their blood to keep this place, and a good deal of the attackers' own. he had assumed his cousin would be more fiercely invested, even defiant.
but there was only a tired wisdom in akavir's eyes. and the peacemaker in lestan was ferociously sated. "have you considered what we will do if they come back?"
would they cede the land or fight? "i was born far from here. i'm not certain i would have given my life over any land." only the inhabitants therein.
the mayfair though of reverie with a serene little smile forming on his face.
He was pensive a moment, turning the question over in his mind. He had never wanted to risk others—but it seemed Arric was willing to fight for whatever he was willing to fight for as well—and it meant it was no longer just a forfeit on his own depressing existence.
They were three strong at our last fight. We know now they are at least four strong.
And surely they gathered more, just as he and Arric did?
Pride and anger were something I was willing to give in to at their last… visit. But I recently found my daughter. So, if they come back… and we aren’t stronger in numbers? I won’t risk anyone.
A pause, then. Where were you born?
Just how far did the Mayfairs stretch across the continent?
lestan puzzled over this but ultimately agreed. bloodshed was not a worthwhile price for land which could always be had and always be claimed.
"loch teine," the mayfair answered. "a lake which always seemed to be set on fire by light."
or by fae.
he went on marking in silence, thinking — again — of reverie and not considering that he should ask the same of akavir!
"i am glad you found one another, you and your daughter," he said albeit belatedly."family was — is — important."
Loch teine. The name of a land that surely was inhabited by Mayfairs, and idly, Akavir thought of his aunts, Deirdre and Emaleth. Constantine had told stories of their prowess—his voice often laced with pride, particularly when he spoke of the former. His father was suspicious at best and a non-believer of magicks, but even he admitted that there seemed something other-wordly about his aunts.
He would have questioned Lestan on his beliefs—surely, their branch of family was not so far extended to not hold some of the same values and beliefs?—when the boy slipped on his words. Family was important, he spoke of first, and with a sideways glance, Akavir questioned him. “Was?” Lestan had tried to correct himself. But he felt there was something more there.
"was," lestan repeated. he shrugged his shoulders. "i'm here now, aren't i? not the loch." and that was that.
he sniffed a little bit, marked a little more, and then cleared his throat. "i think i'll go on patrol," he said quietly, though his voice asked for akavir's dismissal.
he didn't want to think more about home.
Akavir watched Lestan leave, not speaking further at the man’s dismissal. There was something more there, but he would not pry—after all, they had seasons to get to know one another.