Moonspear split stones

By the time he had reached the borders, the gentle intermittent rain had peppered him well. The brief squall was not disruptive enough to hush the birds in the woodland that engulfed him, and the low roll of morning fog caught in patchy sunbeams curled and toiled in restless waves. Dirge too moved in a restless manner, his pace steady as he wove between old trees. Moonspear's borders were relatively quiet these days, the only callers social rather than curious and he was thankful for such. How much more difficult things would have been if they had to introduce others to the spectacle they endured; it was certainly a circus show even to him, still feeling like a relative outsider.

But he suspected it too would quiet again in time, though he did not know how they would reach such a goal. He cared little for the politics of it all though he understood them. It wasn't hard to follow the laws their ilk laid down. They were universal for the most part, the variances left up to whoever felt the necessity to change things. Do good and be rewarded, do bad and be shunned or worse, chased away. In grave situations, life and blood would be rendered and offered to the earth.

Yet he had his own moments of defiance—upon crossing a place where Charon had more than likely gone through earlier and marked, he raised a leg to mark over it. Little gestures, perhaps even unnoticed, were his way of staking his claim in a show where he had been repeatedly ignored. If not for Hydra filling him in over what she had gleaned, there were things he would have relatively stayed in the dark of. These things were among some he had wished to remain in the dark of, but had been drawn to the inner circle of all the same. The game she played was much more open than the subtle one he deigned to take part in.

Both relieved and satisfied he had completed a personal quest along the borders, he kicked up the damp earth at his feet to broadcast his point. If he and Hydra's venture came to fruition, this would become routine and expected. For now it was a means to pass time and though he longed to venture further than the borders, he did not. A short jaunt would not sate the desire he had to stretch his legs and he found that he was not as keen to test fate with Hydra's time growing closer.

So onward he went, wistful and calm.

@Arcturus maybe?

arcturus too was restless, but not for the same reasons as dirge. he did not have puppies growing in a mate's belly; instead he had troubles, brewing in his mind. what started as the tiniest blips of doubt in his mind had snarled into cancerous masses of anxiety; black blights which now occupied every moment of his thoughts rather than casually rolling in intermittently.

one such trouble was the obvious shift in hierarchy as of late. arcturus' entire life, charon and amekaze had always been at the top. he was resistant to change, only because he did not know any other option -- and was painfully, almost irately, aware of dirge's pains to erase his father's mark on the mountain.

arcturus paused at one such marking, lifting his dark skull to the wind with a groan of exasperation. the last thing the mountain needed was a passive-aggressive pissing match between his father and his sister's mate -- knowing charon, it would not stay passive for long before it became downright aggressive.. and knowing hydra, blood would be spilled if her mate was harmed in a territorial spat.

agitated by these acts of subterfuge, arcturus sought out dirge. he ignored the rain and concealed any recent markings on dirge's behalf - either by peeing himself, or ripping the earth up in exasperation. finally, arcturus came upon dirge -- his features contorted into a heavy scowl of annoyance, and his paws quite muddied.

arcturus was not a master of subtlety -- once dirge was aware of him, arcturus' head lifted and he looked upon hydra's mate unabashedly. "you," the boy growled, perhaps the first time he had looked upon dirge unfavorably. "why are you marking over my father? do you wish to lose your head?" the implication was not that he would be the one to spill blood for his father's honor, but rather, an implication that once charon discovered these little acts of defiance, he would rain down on dirge far more cruelly than any hellfire ever could.

He was not alone for long in his tasks, though the presence of Arcturus did not send a ripple of unease through him. It did lead him to pause along a grassy knoll to regard him, well aware of the posturing and the less than pleased expression that had come to rest on the yearling's face. This Dirge met neutrally; he had hoped merely to get his point across and go about his day, but it seemed he'd have to answer to someone, somewhere.

Better Arcturus than someone else, he supposed.

”I'd suspect your father's affairs keep him far too busy to concern himself with what I do,” and that he believed as true through and through. ”And since he doesn't care to hear what I have to say and I don't fancy hearing any more churlish drivel masquerading as deflection, I'll get my point across otherwise.” Charon had dodged his queries, discredited him on more than one occasion and at least once to his face. He hardly believed he would find these actions as anything more than a nuisance, assuming he even bothered to consider them.

Perhaps it would finally grand him an audience with him.

Of course, little did he know that would not happen, either.

”But you're obviously very much done with all this nonsense,” he went on to add with a sigh. ”So for you, I'll hold off on emptying the rest of my intentions. I was actually thinking of coming to seek you out later as it was. We haven't had much of an opportunity to be better acquainted.” And this also implied that Arcturus would want to be better acquainted, but Dirge was shameless in trying to turn this encounter around.

dirge met the flaring yearling neutrally, a rather impressing thing, considering how indignant arcturus appeared. it was one thing for a rift to grow in the family of his own family's actions (father in particular) -- but he could not abide to watching an outsider come in and push their teetering balance right over the edge, either.

because at the end of the day, that's what dirge was, wasn't it? arcturus' gaze hardened and then he immediately felt guilty: this was hydra's mate, her chosen... he was not an outsider any longer, so why did he look at him that way? maybe it was because dirge was being dissident, and raking the piping hot flames of a fire arcturus just wished to see put out.

dirge explained his reasonings and all it earned from the yearling was a bewildered stare. "why, though?" why throw more fuel to the fire? he didn't get it -- weren't these adults? they were all acting so childish -- even arcturus could see there was little virtue in instigating the fury of your packmates. "we are supposed to be a family." arcturus added, softly -- was he the only one around here with a collected and cool head? (unlikely)

he was only slightly mollified by dirge's mention of seeking him out. arcturus wished to know the man well, and someday maybe he would -- but he couldn't deal with more instigation, not when things were already so unstable. "you won't get a chance to know me better if you're dead." arcturus added quietly, shaking his head; part of it was in jest, but he had a very real fear of charon's fuse, and knew that if push came to shove he would be forced always to take his father's side.

Of the many things that Arcturus was blessed with, one of them was certainly the prevailing of a cooler head. He was right to believe that it was all childish, as it was. For as much as Dirge wanted to pull the fight fire with fire line from thin air, it would not have served him much purpose. Even he was unable to avoid the pull to stoop to Charon's level; his gaze wavered away as the boy pointed that they were supposed to be family only to be replaced with a thin smile at the jest.

He thought he would resume this another time, if the urge struck.

”You are right,” he said, ”on both accounts. Seems I've let this all get to me when I shouldn't have. It isn't the way a family should act,” and he did not let it slip that they were hardly a normal family. He of all knew this and kept such guarded closely, not that he had any reasons to believe the other half of his parentage was somehow a cut above the rest. They were just as bad, if not worse. Whatever family was supposed to be, Dirge refused to believe that this was truly it.

Yet he had nothing to base it from either, his own upbringing cruel and unusual on more than one account in his recollection. It was almost too easy to take that moment to dwell on it, but he pushed past it in favor of stabilizing his own place. His attention shifted back to Arcturus and he left the border and its markers behind with a shake of his coat. Things had been so much easier when he had nothing to worry about than the open road.

”Though I have to be honest since you want the why of things, but I'm not so sure your father would come for my head over this. I've done worse to his face. Family doesn't treat one another like afterthoughts or nuisances, like he did to us in the woods. I've had my share of being treated poorly even when I was your age and hoped for better here.” It seemed wrong to be so candid but he had become increasingly so in their company over the last few weeks. It almost came naturally now.

”Now normally I'd have gone my separate ways to avoid all this nasty business and the stress it brings, but I'm also not in the business of leaving those I'm fond of behind. Least of all your sister, or our children. I know a thing or two of that, too.” Charon may have thought him worthless, but Dirge believed he held onto a kind of integrity. It was bolstered with Hydra and what they set to achieve, but he would not speak of those things so easily.

arcturus' bristling settled as dirge conceded he was right; the boy's ears flicked, and it took him a second to process that. wait, someone else was saying he was right? the dark moonspearian was used to most wolves challenging his statements: hydra tended to outsmart him, revui tended to bulldoze over him, and his father usually tended to silence him with a single disapproving stare. arcturus was not used to wolves so openly accepting something he said as correct.

his disbelief was well hidden, but arcturus watched dirge carefully now. he noted the male's frankness, appreciating it -- for both what it was (a strange brand of honesty) and for what it instilled (the beginning threads of trust). arcturus liked to believe himself honest, too -- and tit for tat, would always do his best to reply in kind.

all this talk, however, about his family and the lack of family in dirge's life, and knowing a thing or two about misery -- it was not what arcturus wanted. "it is a strange time," arcturus murmured in response, his lower lip curled in a frown. "my family is not usually like this. give him -- and them -- time."

Whether it was stubbornness or experience, Dirge didn't quite believe him. He knew the sort that Charon's personality embodied, how the pride and loud arrogance warped them after a lengthy spell into something else. A little confidence went a long way, but it was well beyond that. He had seen streaks of this in Hydra and in her attempts to make him heel and perhaps vice versa; for all her levelheaded points, she had sharp teeth to get her point across too.

But the wariness stayed out of his gaze as it crossed Arcturus.

”I suppose I can manage that,” he conceded. Stay in his lane and presume the others would stay in theirs though they were all prone to doing as they pleased, what made them happy. The same went of belief. ”But do you really think it will all come to pass? What will become of us all if it doesn't?” The season had ended, the benefits reaped and the seeds sown, but the tension in the air still remained.

it must be difficult, thought arcturus, to be told what to do by a wolf half your age -- he measured dirge's expression quickly, finding little resentment in the man's gaze.. at least, not for him.

arcturus had managed to at least get hydra's mate to consider not being so antagonizing -- that, in the boy's eyes, was a plus. he did not wish for more turmoil, not when the mountain was so shaken as of late. all it would take to completely unravel them was something small.. he did not like being so on edge.

as for what would happen if things got worse? the boy's gaze swerved from the mist-shorn mountains to dirge. he would not like the answer. the boy was unflinching. "then the family falls." and when the family fell to blows, he knew which side he would be on -- and dirge, outsider, would likely find the fangs turned against him.

what was it his mother had said? trust me on these sort of things? arcturus' shoulders slumped. it was so hard, sitting when you found something you did not sit well with.

"How grim," he thought aloud, a brow quirking at the swiftness Arcturus delivered such a statement with. But perhaps that was what families did when all was for naught and long into disrepair—they simply dissolved and disappeared, rather than squabble and throw words out the window. He had in some way done such when he had left Winterheart, when the discontent had grown far too high and the threats seemingly more than idle.

"I hope for our sake that it does not come to that then," he continued, "it would be a shame for children to grow up with such." Perhaps equally so to see a tarnish coat what they deemed a legacy, which it certainly was by any standard. It was just as self-serving too, as he did not wish to find teeth seeking his hide without justification. Yet if these Ostregas were anything like their mountain, then perhaps they would not crumble so easily.

grim indeed. arcturus gave a silent nod. it was not  vision he wished to be part of, nor a vision he wished to see. for him, family was everything -- and as guilty as he felt for first thinking dirge wasn't family, he had been chosen by hydra. he had sired hydra's whelps. it meant in some way dirge was now tied to them, however delicately -- and arcturus would afford the winterheart male the same protection and loyalty he doled to the rest of his blood.

there was little use continuing such a grim topic. arcturus was glad for the slight change in subject. "the puppies --" he considered, wondering aloud. "have they names yet?"

He couldn't attest to the notion that family was everything, but it didn't leave him torn asunder when their conversation veered deeper into that topic. It was a notion that he hoped to warm to, albeit only for the sake of his union, and whatever station he and Hydra found themselves apart of. Nevertheless, he was grateful in some regard that they had shifted away from his actions, and the talk of grim realities on roads better left untraveled.

"We've discussed a few," he said, then pondering such. "It seems the family tradition to name them for the stars, or so your sister has told me. Only seems fair to uphold that tradition." And it seemed fair to let her name them, he wanted to add, but the comment felt distant and stayed on his tongue. He couldn't claim to understand the name conventions of his sibling or himself and truthfully, hadn't been much help in that department.

"Though if you've any suggestions, I'd be happy to pass them along," he concluded with a thin smile.

arcturus, relieved dirge was amenable to a new subject, listened with attentive ears. it seemed honorable to continue tradition; he gave a small smile, encouraged by the man's willingness to observe his family's customs. "it is tradition," he conceded in a soft murmur. "what of your own family, is there tradition for names there?"

arcturus knew very little of dirge's family -- truthfully, of dirge at all. as far as name suggestions went, the boy was already wracking up a collection of names to supply, pending dirge's answer. there were many stars he knew of, and many hung there on the tip of his tongue in anticipation.

"Not any that I know of," he said, and if there had been then he couldn't have imagined what sense it made. He had his own opinions on how he and his siblings had earned their names, but had never asked. Their existence was very much burdensome in hindsight, he thought, and it had led to his ignorance of the topic now. The opportunity was long gone now as well—he'd never set foot back into Winterheart again.

But he felt his answer was lacking, and he appended: "My family weren't the sharing sort, most of all towards bastard children." He smiled thinly, akin to a pigeon feeder throwing out morsels. But within it was a wince as well no matter how he tried to avoid it; it was a sore, sour topic to gloss over.

there wasn’t much to dirge’s answer, but arcturus could sense the tenderness of the topic — and he had the good sense to poke no deeper. he managed a half-smile, sincere in its sympathy but not apologetic. everyone, it seemed, had a ghost they’d rather not see dredged into sunlight. this ghost was better off unvisited. 

as for names.. 

arcturus believed tradition important, and on instinct looked skyward — but no stars save the sun was visible. we are all named after stars and constellations, he mused, repeating the segment of conversation from before. well, there’s the signs — leo, cancer, scorpius and all that. but then there’s the big stars, too — regulus, procyon, vega, orion.. his gaze flickered to dirge, wondering if any met his fancy. he was sure whatever names picked, would be proud bearers of moonspear’s inimitable legacy.

At least now some of their names made more sense to him. Not so random, not just plucked and pieced together by whatever sounded good off tongue tips. There was a structure and order to the way Charon and Amekaze had named their children, though perhaps not all names were of constellations in the night sky. But Dirge was far from knowledgable in that area and only presumed that each and every star had a name. And perhaps by extention, they all knew what they were. It must have been nice, to have that sort of stability, to be nurtured and taught such things. For them not to be seen as trivial or a simple hobby.

A flicker of envy curled the edges of his thoughts as Arcturus trailed off, and the younger wolf's gaze had settled on him once again. There were a great many to choose from, he thought, and almost wondered if it were impossible to consider every star a name with the way they dotted a night sky.

"I know we've considered Orion, and Vega, maybe an Aries too," he thought aloud. His brow furrowed. "Hydra rattled off many names, honestly. I think if she could have her way she'd use them all in one go." He left a humored expression cross him, his lips turning upwards genuinely.

arcturus did not catch the flicker of envy, for it was nearly imperceptible as it danced across dirge's thoughts. who knows if arcturus would have been sympathetic -- he was, after all, charon's child.

the list he had provided was provisional at best, but arcturus felt relieved when dirge did not immediately scorn them. something about offering your own idea to be subjected by another's opinion came across as incredibly vulnerable to arcturus, and he was not likely to do that again -- exception being in dirge and hydra's presence.

he nodded, pleased he had not been entirely scorned. "i will think of others." arcturus promised -- and he would -- but for now, most of the names of his beloved constellations forewent him. "if you are lucky, you will have many. it may make naming easier, or harder -- depending." he answered dirge's smile with a slender smile of his own, though it stole across his solemn expression as brief as a meteor flare.

The answers to how many were not as daunting as how he felt about them. Curious, perhaps to see what would come, but there was also a certain level of apprehension that lurked in the depths of his thoughts. He possessed the confidence to do better than his father, but he hardly knew what made a father; aptly put, he knew it better as a verb than the noun. Perhaps he would loathe it all as time went on, and live up to some paternal curse that did or did not exist.

"I suppose we will all find out," he rejoined in mirth—Hydra would surely get her way with things.

arcturus was tapped for much more answers; he had one name of his own he would utter if he was ever lucky enough for a daughter -- that name he kept close to his furtive heart, for it was special, and he dared not utter it. fatherhood, to him, was as incomprehensible as space -- and it seemed, just as distant.

but he was standing before a soon-to-be-father, and he could tell by dirge's expression that something was eating at him. arcturus was no seer, but he imagined it was related to the enormity of being a father. he almost wanted to say something encouraging, like 'my dad's the best father there is --' but stopped short of uttering his foolish mouth, for he had forgotten his place, and also the history that muddled the waters between charon and dirge.

so, he just offered a shrug of his shoulders and nodded. "time has a way of telling, indeed." his voice trailed off, and for a moment he seemed he had no more to say.. but then he spoke once more: "maybe a hunt together will help clear our minds."

it was an unspoken invitation, but an invitation nonetheless -- arcturus glanced upon his comrade hopefully, the smile gone but his eyes tinted with quiet warmth.

The intuition of his brother-in-law was spot on; the enormity of being a father was certainly daunting. He knew enough not to be like his own, but the rest was an unknown of a great depth. And it was into that depth that he had and would consciously dive, be it for better or worse.

With a note of affirmation, he could not help but agree—a hunt would certainly clear their minds if not his alone.

"What did you have in mind?"

arcturus' solemn mind was already elsewhere; on the prospect of a hunt. once his brother-in-law agreed, the dark companion lifted his gaze up to the rocky steppes above. "i'm feeling like sheep." he motioned to the jagged pass above them, where he had heard in their conversation the bumbling of rocks unsettled by cloven hooves. he was certain there was a small band of sheep there -- he had caught wind of them occasionally on his daily prowls.

giving dirge little time to react, arcturus was already making his way uphill -- if dirge agreed, they could likely startle a sheep to its early (and rather abrupt) death. he looked forward to such a thing.