He had been told by his mother to never return but he had not left with the intention of staying away forever. He figured that Jinx needed space, that perhaps his persistence would pay off that she would come around. That he could amend for 'turning his back on them' when as far as he was concerned he hadn't. He had only went to free Bones — failed horribly at it; if the fading scar on his neck was of any consistent indication — to save someone that he cared about. Had it been Jinx he would have done the same thing without hesitation. Bones, as far as Ira was aware, was unreachable to him, lost to her heathen family and he was alone. It wasn't company as a whole that he missed — only specific people. Jinx, for one. And Bones, Sitri even (though this was likely because he missed having someone to kick around). He did not approach the borders of Ouroboros Spine with the specific intent of joining. He had not forgotten Jinx's words to him of not being allowed back in.

Instead Ira closed the distance with the intent only to speak to her ...if she would even see him. Perhaps Jinx would ignore him. Ira reasoned that it was probably going to be the case and that instead he would be met with the unwelcome approach of another — maybe a Spine wolf he knew or maybe one he would not. Regardless he would not budge until he either saw Jinx or a deal of deliverance of a message was met. The Princeling's steps ceased, leaving an acceptable amount of distance between the scent markers and himself. So intent of reconciling, or trying to reconcile with his mother that he didn't notice that her scent did not linger on the borders any longer. Ira lifted his muzzle towards the sky and let out a call for her and then he waited, eluding a rare amount of patience.

It did not surprise Ira that it was Sitri who answered his call, despite that it had been specifically for Jinx. The Princeling had not thought that his mother would make it that easy. After all, there was a chance, Ira reasoned, that Jinx was still mad at him. Smarmy smirk tugged at the edges of the pallid Princeling's lips as the heavily scarred Sitri approached. His demeanor was different than Ira remembered but Ira deluded himself into thinking that it was just because Sitri had to deal with him. Ira had a habit of making enemies every where he went and though he had felt something of a skewered kinship with the ugly man before him there had nothing that had been kind in Ira when they had spoken previous — mostly because hardly anything Ira said or did was kind. Ira watched with suspicion at Sitri's bowed head. “Come Sitri ...the idea of talking to me cannot be that bad,” Ira taunted the other man true to form. It wasn't as if Ira could help himself anymore. So caught up in the persona he had created to protect himself that he wasn't sure what was created and what was real within him anymore. He was cruel upon instinct most days.

Ira, when he watched Sitri stop in his approach and look at him, stood up taller, trying to show that just because Jinx had chased him off did not mean that he stopped being the Princeling. In reality, it did. In Ira's head it was a very different story. “She will. Maybe not today but Jinx will come,” Ira interrupted Sitri before, annoyed, he allowed Sitri to finish. At first, Ira couldn't make sense of the words the other male had spoken. “What do you mean she's at death's door?” Ira demanded of Sitri, tone curt and sharp. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? That isn't funny, Sitri.” Ira hissed viciously at his subordinate the other, his breath hitching as he tried to find his lungs in his body. "DON'T LIE TO ME SITRI!!" Ira screamed at him, unbidden and unsure how to deal with the pain ...with the emotions he felt.

Ira looked at Sitri — really looked as Sitri's words sunk slowly and painfully into Ira's mind, into his heart. It had not been dread of talking to Ira that had plagued Sitri, the highly intelligent boy could see that now. It had been a dread of telling Ira what had came to pass. Ira's jaw clenched together tightly, painfully tight as his chest heaved with the sobs that wracked his body. “No...NO! My mother is not dead! She...she can't...can't be.” Jinx was immortal ...a Goddess. Or at least, that was how Ira had always seen her. Sharp, glacier silver eyes zeroed in on Sitri, not wanting the man to see him like this...discomposed. Vulnerable. Yet, the floodgates were breaking anyway and Ira was frozen to the spot. Jinx had been the only mother Ira had ever known really and he was devastated because he loved her; and now she was gone. He was alone.

Ira was a conflict of emotions — anger, sorrow, grief, disgust, irritation, denial. They swelled within him like a monsoon gaining it's power over the open sea. “I get that,” Ira snapped at Sitri, feeling like the ugly brute had slammed a knife into the depths of Ira's black heart and was twisting it over and over. He had no patience for Sitri to stand there and be entirely redundant. Ira had little patience on his good days and today...today was not a good day. There were a few moments in which Ira was silent, mostly because the thick ball of emotion felt to be lodged in his throat. It was hard enough to swallow and breathe around it let alone talk. A low growl ripped forth from Ira's lips when Sitri apologized to him. “I don't want an apology. I want my mother!” Ira screamed like the grief stricken child that he was. “How could you all let her die?! Who? Who did this?” Ira demanded and took a breath giving no time to Sitri to even begin to form a reply before he screamed again, “Tell me who did this to her Sitri so that I can tear their entrails out of their bodies and leave their hearts for the crows.” He would get his revenge. He would avenge Jinx's death even if it cost him his own life. He swore it he would. Even if it took him years everyone who had let her die would pay the price for it.

Had it been anyone else but Sitri that spoke those words to Ira he would have taken it as a direct threat to his life, however, he garnered that the ugly brute had no indications of killing him — even if he did he could try but Ira had no intentions of dying any time soon. It was obvious to the pallid Princeling that Sitri had not understood that Ira had meant in the place of sympathy and apologizes he would much rather have Jinx ...even though he was pretty sure that Jinx hated him. That didn't deter Ira. She had been the only mother he had ever known, the only mother that he had loved and love didn't just turn off because they had a falling out.

Silver eyes narrowed sharply, cutting in their direction towards Sitri, teeth baring when the scarred man told him that she had been drowned by some woman whose name Ira wasn't even going to try to pronounce. “Then she will pay. I will do to her what she did to my mother. Not now, no, when everyone has forgotten and I am older.” Ira vowed. He would strengthen himself, train himself all for that moment. The moment in which he would seek to avenge his mother's death. “I don't care! She was your Queen! She...she was my mother.” But Ira doubted that Sitri truly understood the grief that was tearing him apart inside. He understood was Sitri was trying to tell him — that Ptarmigan had done her a “kindness” by ending her life before the rabies could waste her away to nothing, before she could truly suffer but that did not lessen Ira's pain. That did not offer a cushion to the continuous blows that he suffered. That would not heal the bruises of his aching heart.

Sitri's words offered no comfort to Ira. Plotting revenge did offer some sort of tourniquet. Right now, he was simply a child grieving. He could kill, yes, but he was not physically strong enough or trained enough to take a fully grown adult, if his failed attempt to save Bones had been of any true indication. He knew poisons. He knew how to kill slowly, quietly, without a trace, but he needed to hone his body to be a double edged sword, first. “What of Lecter?” Ira asked next, unable to believe that he was willingly asking for the Shaman but if Lecter was still alive then he was all that Ira would have left of Jinx and Ira was so desperate in that moment that he would have sufficed with the rancid old man for that purpose alone.

“I don't give a fuck who they turned the pack over to, Sitri,” Ira scowled furiously. It didn't matter because it should have been his. That was what Jinx had groomed him for, and even Lecter himself. Of course Ira realized that he had royally screwed that by going after Bones but he had thought that he had made the right choice even if Jinx hadn't seen it. He should have asked her what she would have done if it had been Lecter...would she have just let her love go? Without even bothering to try to rescue him? Of course it had been in vain as far as Ira was concerned because not only had he failed at saving Bones he had ended up turning his mother against him all in one, magnificent fell swoop. “Look, this pack...it doesn't, it holds nothing of her anymore. She may have founded it but she no longer leads it and how long do you think her ideals will uphold with some bitch on the throne?” Ira asked Sitri, not really expecting an answer. It had mostly been rhetorical anyway.

“I am good at stealth, Sitri,” Ira's smile was a wretched thing as it spread across his muzzle. “I don't care about leading this pack, Cara and Kaname can have it. Nothing of Jinx remains here. I only want to avenge her and hurt all of those who had let it happen.” Because as far as Ira cared to see they were all to blame. Even himself, but he figured the way his heart was tearing apart he was already suffering for it and that it wasn't fair that he was the only one. Ira drew in a sharp, painful breath, silver eyes studying Sitri with a small wrinkle of insolence in his muzzle. “Why do you stay here? Come with me, Sitri. I will build a kingdom for us and honor Jinx and Lecter's memories.” He was loyal to Jinx and that was his saving grace in the pallid Princeling's books.