@Sinaaq
Artok limped slowly along the mountain range. Most of his other wounds healed and doing well. The one deep inside to the muscle and tissue, it was a whole other ball game. He would never walk straight again, she had severed or pinched something and he was paying for it. It was cumbersome and annoying, but he was learning to handle it. He hoped before his first birthday, he would hardly be able to tell, so used to it he would be.
He growled low in his throat as he thought of the past weeks of hell he had been through. His uncle had left him, he had been accepted into a pack only to be attacked by another member. Then the pack had done nothing, but belittle him and make it into his fault, when he had done nothing. They were so bias and so backwards, it made him sick. Honestly if he could get away with it, he'd kill them all or at least hurt them really badly. He growled again, and continued on. He would have to turn back soon enough, farther away from home than he would like to be.
He stopped to give his shaking limb a rest and looked out over the land. He couldn't deny that it was beautiful here. This place was gorgeous. He sat still, his tail curled around his paws. He held his worthless limb, a little further up than most.
ASDFGHJKL;;;; also, remember when artok had a crush on solia and it was all cute until sin found out and got jealous? lol.
The days had begun to grow warmer, with each one passing. The air was tepid, not unbearably hot but not what he, personally, would consider cool, either, though in retrospect the “winter” if that was what he dared to even call it, had been extremely mild in comparison to the one had suffered with Adlartok through in the Seahawk Valley. The charcoal with guard hairs dusted with cinnamon and rust wraith moved like an out of place shadow across the landscapes, each melting into one another. Earth was earth, what was the sense in forming irrational attachments to a claimed stake of land? It did not truly belong to the wolf whose urination saturated the invisible “borders” that warded off unwanted intruders. Either the pack would prosper or it would wither and die. It was this mentality that he adopted upon joining the Spine wolves moons ago, and it was a mentality he kept too. He had no attachment to the lands and no attachment to any of those who inhabited it with him. In an idle sort of fashion, Sinaaq wondered why it was Cara kept him around, why she had not just told him to leave and never return for he had challenged her before even being accepted by meeting her eyes. In many ways the thought to be incapable Spine Queen intrigued him which served to make the darkling more resolute to avoid her if he could help it.
Intrigue never meant anything good when he felt it. Solia had intrigued him, at first and that had ended in a disaster. To say that Cara's status as Kaname's wife, should Sinaaq have chosen to nurture this intrigue would stop him would be to speak a lie. He held no concern for previously established relationships; but Sinaaq refused to nurture his intrigue. Once was bad enough and the nightmare had learned his lesson. In all fairness, this year had held many lessons for Sinaaq, all beneficial but all damaging in their own manner. Solia. Adlartok. Even Quicksilver, whom though Sinaaq would never admit it, had taken a shining too in a rapid and ardent manner. He had been drawn in only to be cut bluntly out as one day Quicksilver had, presumably, left to chase after his next conquest and mysteriously never returned. They had been a duo, reminiscent only a tiny bit, to how he had once traveled with Adlartok as his companion.
Pause was given, abrupt and harsh, like the jerk and grinding halt of metal wedged between gears as a familiar scent, though dappled with unfamiliar scents teased his black, leathery nostrils. His heart sputtered to what felt to be a stop before it gave a painful lurch in his chest, knocking the darkling breathless. Even as foreign as the other scents were he recognized it, unmistakably. It couldn't be. But it was. "Adlartok,"
Sinaaq's course altered marginally, long, willowy legs carrying him forth with reckless abandon, hatred and anger and devastation and joy raging a nasty war within him with each step he took. The svelte silvery form of his nephew — so much like his beautiful mother — came into the fallen's view and he stopped, steps faltering until he could move no more. He had grown, bigger, taller, his eyes even from the distance that Sinaaq left between them, not his mother's eyes but Sinaaq's instead. Quick, rapid pants left the darkling's lips as he stuied his precious and wretched infection, not sure what he felt only that his warring emotions felt like they might crush him with their weight. For now, Sinaaq was silent, ardently watching for the boy's reaction.
Yes I remember :D
Much like his uncle, for Adlartok the days passed by in blurs. They were the same thing over and over again. Wake up, eat, work on his walking, sit, try and hunt, eat, sleep and do it all over again. Adlartok would have gladly stayed a lone wolf, if he could have survived. Now however he couldn't and he needed the pack for life and safety. Not to mention he was rather fond of Scarlett, but if anyone asked he would deny it, unless it was her. Then he wouldn't, he'd be honest.
Adlartok thought on the few wolves, he had met and had cared for. All were gone, so he found he was a little bit wary to say the least. Wary to care for Scarlett, what if she left him too. He had even liked the pack, but that too had ended badly. He was finding it was better to not care about anything or anyone.
Adlartok heard another coming, and his hackles rose and he turned with a growl. He wasn't about to have anyone, take a chunk out of his hide a second time. He stared at his uncle, frostily the growl staying it's course in his throat. His face twisted with a snarl and anger, righteous righteous anger. Hello Uncle Sin. His voice cold and indifferent for a moment, though deep down his heart was beating heavily. His soul and emotions jumping for joy, and then knocking against anger and hurt, a deep deep hurt.
The insolent infection turned with hackles bristled and a growl, though when the child's eyes touched upon him, recognizing him, Sinaaq had no doubt, the growl did not cease. It did not cut off, or even bother to taper. This ignited the darkling's own rage, benign as it typically was. The fallen was not so used to feeling such a hot, ardent rush of wrath and yet it rose to the surface like boiling lava, preparing to erupt from the mouth of the volcano that housed it at any unpredictable moment.
How dare he? After it had been
Adlartok whom had left
him? Who had destroyed him as he sliced his own wounds into Sinaaq's mangled heart. The child's face twisted in anger at him, the words cold, indifferent and biting, which would Sinaaq would not have been busy being ravaged by his
precious infection's unwarranted (or so Sin thinks) rage, he might have been proud and ready to boast about how the child was
like him; that Adlartok could deny it but they were two of the same vein. Alike. That Adlartok was successfully Sinaaq's
own legacy, and in that way, Frigga's as well.
That pride was snuffed out in favor of everything that was threatening to crush Sinaaq emotionally at that moment, however. There, providing they did not kill one another, would be time for boasting later.
"Don't snarl at me, infection," The darkling hissed, eyes narrowing. "What right do you have to be angry with me?" He ghosted forward, gaze bearing upon the silver accented child without waver. "It is you that left me. Or have you already forgotten?" The darkling demanded, his muzzle wrinkling in attempts to subdue the child's wrath and keep his own under check.
The last time his normally benign wrath had gotten conquered him it had ended in a blood bath — Glimmer's broken and blood stained body ruined at his paws, her metallic blood pooling around his ebony paws and dripping from his crimson stained teeth.
Artok saw the rage building in his uncles eyes, saw it in the way he held himself. Had it been a few months prior, he would have run off and tapered it down. But he was finding, that you could get no where, without a little fight. Look at Tuwawi, he would be dead if he hadn't fought. Dead if he hadn't fought to survive.
Artok's eyes grew slitted, and he growled more. I left you! I left you! I woke up and you were gone! Gone! And you were always threatening to leave, I waited! Waited and you didn't come back. So I left the area, I was hungry.
Artok stared at him non-plussed, and irritated. His uncle had left him, left him to his own devices and his own way. He hadn't left his uncle. Why would he leave the only person he actually had ever cared about? It was foolish, but when he felt he wasn't wanted and abandoned he had left.
The child dared to growl again, and Sinaaq's chest puffed out in indignant offense to the
boy's insubordination. Adlartok had spoiled him by being relatively well behaved, and
generally listening when Sinaaq told him to say something...but this was not the Adlartok that Sinaaq knew. It was a crushing thing, to realize that
someone else had gotten their poisonous claws into the child and changed him. Sinaaq had him on the path to perfection, what
he and Frigga had wanted for her child and
someone else was ruining him. Had turned him against his own
uncle. The one who had
raised him, stealing him away from the lack witted family he'd been born into in attempts to keep him
free. Free of the scrutiny and hatred that Sinaaq had suffered as an infant. If not for Frigga and Nan, Aga, their mother, would have left Sinaaq to die.
Had, in fact left Sinaaq to die. Though there was always a reluctant and sour affection for Nan, Sinaaq could not bring himself to hate her to any real degree. Without his eldest sister, who had lost her litter earlier that month nursing him he would have died for Aga would not let him feed from her, disgusted by the male she had produced, infatuated as she was by Sinaaq's father Akiak.
Eyes of liquid gold rolled, a soft tsh leaving Sinaaq's lips as the child babbled on about how he woke up and Sinaaq was gone. As annoying as it was to be yelled at by his own prodigy, the creature he had willingly taken captivity for would really think that he would leave him. It was a giant misunderstanding between them, Sinaaq realized; but he was offended and angry and it appeared, so was Adlartok. "Do you think so little of me, infection?" Sinaaq spat at the boy, contempt lacing his words. "I who has raised you since I was but a child myself? I who willingly became a prisoner to keep you safe?” He wasn't trying to guilt trip Adlartok, merely to act the cynical voice of reason in this, now that he understood.
Attempts to end Aldartok's life aside, no one could contest that Sinaaq had taken care of him. Had killed Glimmer to keep him safe. "I killed my own sister to keep you safe and free," Not that Glimmer's death had really affected him all that much. He had always hated her in particular, but even so. She was his first kill of their species and it was not something he was likely to forget even if it failed to bother him. "I went hunting, Adlartok. Have I ever not returned to you?" Sinaaq demanded, expecting a response from the child.
Artok stared at him, though he growl slowly quieted. He kept his muscles tight, and his eyes poised on his uncle. If anything he had learned, always be ready, in the last few months. Trust no one, and never take anyone for their word, ever again. He had trusted, he had been obedient, everything he was supposed to be. And now look at him, wounded and pitiful, having to limp for the rest of his life.
Artok stood still as his words, washed over him. He laid his ears to his skull, but he didn't submit. He would never submit to anyone, ever again. Except for maybe Miss Scarlett. Not even Kove would get him to submit, they would have to break his back. I never said you didn't care for me, and I know very well what you have done for me. But being on my own, uncle I trust no one as I did. A wolf who gave me shelter, gave me a home. Allowed his bitch to do this to my hide, because i wasn't her only son. She wasn't even a high ranking wolf, but she had ruled once before and the leader, did nothing. So forgive me, if I am less than jovial."
Artok tilted one ear forward, and shook his head. no uncle you never left before. But you had been grumbling at me, for awhile. And you seemed so angry, to have to care for me. I thought perhaps this time, you really had left.
Within too long of a stretch of time did the child's growl begin to subside. The audacity that Adlartok had, and further more the consideration of the power to dare to let such a guttural noise loose in Sinaaq's direction had been nothing short of insulting to the darkling, whose lip curled still is discontent and thinly veiled contempt. How much he knew that Frigga – where ever her departed spirit may be – desired for the two Arrluk males to reconcile with one another. To look after one another as they once had when Sinaaq had boldly stolen the child in the thickest shadows of the coldest night selfishly wanting the only thing he had left of his favorite and dearest sister left. The taint of the lack witted and incredibly dull creatures that had given birth to him had no business upon Adlartok though Sinaaq felt a painful clench in the pit of his stomach at the contemplation that whilst he had saved him from the taint of his sperm and egg donor that someone else had placed their taint upon the boy. It was a taint that decidedly needed to be purged. Adlartok was his nephew and there was no room for any other father figure in his life ...or so Sinaaq choose to so contritely and perhaps blindly believe.
Of course he was able to place this feeling moments later with a darkening scowl: he was jealous. Which meant that despite how much contempt he felt for the child, and despite how much pain Adlartok had inflicted upon him by abruptly disappearing that Sinaaq still loved him. Or cared for him in the unique way of Sinaaq's that was as close to 'love' as anyone was bound to get. “Then...why?” Sinaaq asked hissed, head canting to the side, reminiscent of a falcon as it watched it's prey inquisitively. “I am not this unknown woman you speak of; and I am not Glimmer.” Admittedly, Sinaaq had tried to kill Adlartok at least three times in the past – but this was before he had realized that despite the child's theft of Frigga's life force he was still very much a part of Frigga. “You can trust me, Artok.” The child's nickname, the one that Frigga had bestowed upon him had spilled forth from Sinaaq's lips. Soft. Nary more than a whisper upon the wind, but nevertheless true. Their relationship with one another was never meant to be so clear cut, and Sinaaq was nothing if not a unattached creature. His mind was chaos, consumed with dark desires and a cold and hot hatred for the world behind his wall. Even so, he could not so easily turn off those paternal instincts towards his nephew, even if some part of him tried to convince said instincts that cutting him free would be easier. Less of a toll on his already damaged and ravaged heart. Severing Adlartok, however, Sinaaq knew, would also sever all he had left of Frigga as his memories of her, of her voice, of her smell, faded with time. It was not a sever he was ready to make, nor deal with for it might be the cut that hurt the most.
Sinaaq was quiet, still watching Adlartok with distanced and indecipherable eyes, fierce and burning. He did not know how to admit that his “grumbling” as the child had put it, was his way of showing affection. He did not know how to show it any other, and conventional way. He had not known any other kind of affection and thus showed it how he had received it as a boy. “I am angry, Adlartok. This wasn't how any of this was supposed to go. Your mother was not supposed to die. We were supposed to be a family and when she passed,” He tapered off there, scowling into the horizon. Talking about it did not make it easier, nor did it make it better. “I watched you steal her life from her. As she drew her last you drew your first. What I did not know at the time is that it isn't your fault. Not anymore than it is mine. I am angry at the world, Adlartok.” There was so much damage done to him that he was not sure he could be anything else ...or that he was willing to be anything else. Anything else was unknown, and he did not want to find out who he would be if he was any different.
“With Solia and I... I couldn't...I had to leave,” Which was why he'd uprooted Adlartok, yet again. The damage had already been done because he had loved Solia but there was no going back. Only forward. “However, I would never abandon you. You are my infection,” Sinaaq did not smile, but he offered a soft noise of reluctant amusement. “And I would never break my promises.”
Artok saw his uncles lip curled in contempt and anger. It did nothing though to cool, his own anger and feeling of injustice. Artok would be perfectly okay with the fact of not father figure. He did not want one, especially not from one of the males in the pack. He did not trust any of them, especially not Kove. There was a wrongness about that male, a false something. However, Artok couldn't prove it, or even see completely what it was.
Artok shrugged, I am just not as happy as I once was Uncle. I just can't seem to get over it. I can't trust anyone, as I once did. It's impossible. ARtok's ears went to the back of his skull, when his uncle used his nickname, the nickname he gave to no one. That alone was his uncles name for him, and he would taint it with allowing it to come off of another's lips. He moved a little closer and settled to his haunches near his uncle, being sure to hold his one leg, further out.
Artok listened but didn't say anything. He did not know how many times since his injury. That he wished, that his life had been taken. That he had lain with his mother, and gone into the eternal abyss. He was not even a whole wolf anymore, broken and shattered. He could not make any attachments, he could not love, he did not trust anyone. What sort of existence was that. That Uncle Sin, makes two of us
Artok nodded his head, and dipped his muzzle towards the ground. He knew his uncle was not one for affection, and though he craved it. He did not touch his uncle, he just sat still and waited.
The boy's shrug — so careless to the darkling — and enervated excuse that of which Sinaaq could find no answer to his questions within, was unacceptable. What in the hell did the child think that was? He needed something much more sufficient than the fact that Adlartok couldn't trust anyone. What reason did he have to feel such a way? When Sinaaq had always went above and beyond the call of duty for him. Selling himself as a prisoner to ensure that Artok was safe, settling down in Wintersun because even injured as Sinaaq had been he hadn't wanted Artok to starve, or to be without. Brow raised over molten eye as he studied the grayscale creature so much like Sinaaq himself that the darkling couldn't help but be furious about. Was this how he was? Unwilling to listen to anything but the dark hisses within his mind? Stubborn. Incorrigibly so? Except, to Sinaaq there was a significant difference between him and Adlartok. The boy had not suffered so nearly as much as Sinaaq had — Sinaaq had nearly killed himself to make sure of that, and the simple lack of gratitude and distance only angered the darkling further.
The consideration that he should have let Glimmer take the boy, let him be treated as poorly as Sinaaq himself as been not just by his father but by his own mother who had been willing to literally let him starve to death, flitted across the Arrluk's mind as regret surged through him. Regret for loving him, because for all Adlartok was speaking of now he was doing the exact same thing to Sinaaq that everyone did — eventually. Torture him, leave him. Destroy him. “What reasons do you have for your so called distrust other than your own misunderstanding?” Sinaaq could not help but hiss, feeling as if the boy had stabbed him in the back, slicing through bone and sinew to his heart where he repeatedly jabbed the rusted, red hot poker over and over again into it. It hurt because despite himself Sinaaq had retained what little of hope he could scrounge up. Simply to watch it burst into flames before his own eyes.
“I know you harbored affection for Solia, Adlartok,” It hurt to even speak her name. His heart gave a painful lurch in his chest, her name burning his lips. Still, it was about high time Sinaaq let on to the boy in regards to his knowledge of Artok's crush on her. “How do you think that I feel? I lo-” He couldn't do it, couldn't make him say the word. He choked on it as if he'd swallowed ashes, suffocating. “It doesn't matter now.” Sinaaq could no longer remember precisely what had happened anymore, having thought about it over and over until his fact became contorted. Until he could not decipher what had actually happened and what he'd added and refined during his time obsessing over it. “But you will need a better explanation that what you have thus offered me to tell me why you cannot come with me now. I have never let you down, Artok. So why?”
Artok didn't know what to say, to help his uncle believe him. He was hugely out of practice with talking to anyone anymore. Preferring honestly to keep to himself as of late. Artok wasn't sure, how he had become like his uncle, only that he had. Though, he was not on the complete carbon copy as his uncle. No, he was just distrustful, and angry, and spoke in riddles often. He had just formed this way, had just happened to become this, though he held his own thoughts, much different than his uncles own.
Artok, did not meant to cause harm, and had he known he was. He would have felt remorseful, especially since it was the only true father figure he had ever had. Part of the reason, probably why he was so against Kove even trying to speak with him. Not to mention he was certain the man would hurt Scarlett eventually. Then he would have to kill the jerk, of course. Artok looked over at his uncle and spoke softly, Many, I was accepted into a pack, given resources as long as helped to provide. The alpha Malachi accepted me. Then a she wolf by the name of Tuwawi attacked me on the pack lands, Telling me that i didn't belong, she was not even an alphess, but she had been. She almost killed me, then rather than speak up for me? Protect me? Tell her she was in the wrong, the alpha Malachi said nothing, let her do what she wanted. Even let her attack him, because he was too much of a coward to stand up to the bitch. Then the she wolf that nursed me back to health her mate, is a nother coward I can tell. He has already hurt her numerous times emotionally. " He shrugged then, and looked down. Perhaps it was trivial to his uncle, but ot him this was all huge.
Artok chuckled softly, I had a boyhood crush on her yes uncle, but I did not love her as you did. As for why i can't come with you uncle, I owe Miss. Scarlett my life now, I promised her i would protect her. Because heavens the woman can't do it herself, she's too nice.