Ankyra Sound "Neither."

Rolled for Prompt 11 - a random event. Since tonight is the night of the meteor shower, I'm clearing the clouds for a little bit for some stargazing.

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He has never paid much attention to stars. It isn't his duty. Teleklos and Tyrtaeus were the poets, the dreamers, the lovers of all that was nature and beauty. But tonight, he is particularly compelled by the streaks of silver he catches every so often in the sky, cutting through the dissipating clouds of the storm that is passing by.
He wonders if his twin brothers are watching the sky now, too. No. . .it is not a matter of if, but where. Near the sacred temple? Out on the plains? Atop the highest hill? For a moment, he feels a pang of homesickness, something he has never experienced before. He detests the feeling and it flees as quickly as it came--but still, it had came.
With a rattling sigh, Eurycrates settles on a flat rock, looking up. Not much else beyond the occasional shooting star could be seen; the sky is still too murky from earlier. He wishes it were clearer. The stars are an escape from the rage he feels inside, the burning desire for revenge against the wolves that had so thoughtlessly turned him away and now possess one of the sound's own.
It is a moment's respite, a brief peace. He is unused to it, but lets it sink down marrow-deep within him, his eyelids narrowing to near-relaxed slits.

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Under the direction of @Caiaphas, Svalinn prowled after the freshest scent trail Eurycrates had left behind. She told him that if he wanted to know what war was from the male perspective, that among them he would be the wolf to speak to first. More to the point, as he was coming into his own tall physique - riddled with an untapped well of youthful brawn - the young wolf was sorely in need of some physical conditioning. And as he had recently begun to push boundaries with his scant, serrated mother, it was high time he stopped taking lessons in the craftiness of coywolves and started learning what it was to be a big bad wolf.

But first, to establish rapport.

The aurous juvenile found the massive brute on a stately slab, admiring the cold, flashing sky. Uninterested at first in the event, Svalinn made a noise to draw the wolf's attention, and then wagged his tail hopefully to provoke an invitation up.

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He eyes the pale shape that approaches with some mistrust, but, after a beat, shifts to give the boy more room on the stone. Eurycrates dislikes letting others so close in his moments of. . .openness. (He would call it weakness; his poet brothers would argue that openness is, in fact, strength. Pah!) There is no escape from it now, though. The invitation has been made.
Are you a man of the stars? he rumbles, glancing toward the young wolf. He must be--why else seek company this time of night, and on such a night? The titan braces himself for a discussion of the cosmos, a subject he knows next to nothing about.

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Svalinn readily accepts the invitation and found it particularly easy to ignore the reluctance with which it was given. He leaped up and reclined beside the war sphinx, admiring his broad back and smirking a little at the posed question. "No," he glanced upwards; interested, but not enraptured. The stars didn't mean much to him, and the sky by extension: as long as it wasn't falling. "I came to ask you about what war is."

I know it can be taxing to play a character not technically around anymore, so feel free to toss up another quick one, and I can fade in my next post! :)