Ankyra Sound a blackout oath i swore and meant but couldn't conjure up again

Though the Teekon Wilds had settled considerably over the past few weeks, somewhere else the earth still stood to tremble.  

As he crosses the edge of the border he tilts his head back and howls to @Blixen that he'll be home soon, more for himself than for her.  There were still things he had not dealt with; the loss of his siblings and nomi still weighed upon him, though less heavily than before.  He had found that if you keep your head up and don't think about it, it gets easier over time.  He was too focused on not focusing on it to see how their absence still affected him.  Every time he left he had to remind himself that he would come back.  No matter what happened, no matter who had abandoned them in the past, Tux would never.

He was no natrona.

Until —

He knew too much about the weather to ignore the signs overhead.  

But if he looked close, he could have sworn that he saw her.  She was there, in the dense black clouds.  Her fur was the darkness of the waves.  Her voice was the howling of the wind.  Inland, she commanded, but he could not bring himself to move his legs.  Helplessly he watched as the water came closer and then enveloped him completely.

He gasped for air but his lungs found no purchase.  Finally his legs kicked in, but no matter how strong of a swimmer he was, he continued treading water.  Briefly, his head broke over the surface.  Nomi, he strained through his salt-licked throat as tears sprang in the corner of his eyes.  A moment later he was sucked back under and he gave into the preciousness of being enveloped by the ocean — by nomi.

When he comes to it is days later and he is miles and miles and miles away from Trigeda.  His dribbling nose stings, the air is achingly cold as it enters his lungs.  He tries to make himself stand; his legs tremble beneath his weight.  His stomach heaves.  A mix of saltwater and bile expel from his mouth, and his legs give way from under him.  Thankfully, he's able to force himself in the opposite direction as his sick.

With a frustrated growl, he crawls a few feet in the sand, the ice frozen to his pelt cracking as he moves.  Eventually he finds the strength to stand again and begins to prowl the shoreline of Ankyra Sound, entirely unaware of how close to home he truly was.

Days after Raleska had turned away from her mother, she was consumed by a harrowing sense of guilt. It had been right to do, but god, it felt shitty -- what had first been denial (in her own actions), then sorrow, then fury, had finally softened into something more akin to resignation.

She knew she must find her mother. It had been a kneejerk reaction, but it had still been right. Rosalyn and Rusalka would be safer without Caiaphas, and Raleska knew that.. but it didn't make the taste in Raleska's mouth feel any better.

She had to apologize - maybe she needed closure in the form of sharing her own side, her own reasons for it all. She returned to where she thought she knew Caiaphas would be, but was besides herself to learn the Sound housed Caiaphas no more than it housed any Rusalkan. Combing the coast (Raleska was still taken aback by how high the seas were still), Raleska paused in uncertainty as a beast lurched from along the wash-line.

He was not immediately recognizable to Raleska, but as she pulled closer she realized she knew this wolf. The recognition chilled her blood and she pulled up abruptly, torn between running or standing her ground. He looked like something the ocean had spat out -- quite literally.. Raleska didn't want to risk her chances engaging with him, but her stupid iron-rod pride kept her rooted to the spot. Her emblazoned gaze rested upon his sodden form with a feral nervousness, but Raleska said nothing as she watched him prowl ever closer.

He was wave-battered enough that he could not carry long.  Trembling legs could only support him for so far; the bulk of him in this situation a detriment more than anything else.  Though the ocean had water-logged his fur, had pruned his skin, his mouth was dry.  His tongue came from between his jaws to lick the dehydrated flesh of his lips.  

Groggy, he pulled his head up to look around for water — water that wasn't salt, water that wasn't a body larger than him.  It was then he saw her.

She was close enough he could make out her features; they took a moment to register before he froze.  He looked around at the open-maw shape of the shoreline, then back at her.  

Had he ever even gotten her name?

I know you.

Her spine involuntarily bristled as the male's gaze fell upon her. She had been expecting it, but still -- being sighted by the enemy, the enemy -- all of those buried memories came back to her, more violent even in their resurgence than a stormy sea.

Raleska recoiled, despite the fact he was debilitated. Despite the fact he was waterlogged and roughworn, weak even. She wanted him to come no closer. "You do." Raleska replied, hoping the tone in her voice might serve as some barrier. Had she not been so spent in emotions already, she might have looked upon him with some sympathy. Instead she looked upon him the way a soldier might, dull, thousand-yard-stare -- was Drageda back, should she run, was her life now forfeit?

It occurred to her she could end it all now; she could strike him down, like Dacio and Opalia had struck her down not so long ago. They had come out of nowhere - the memory elicited a shudder of her spine, and she took another wary step back, looking around her as if expecting any minute to be cornered. "Are there more of you?"

Her voice was cutting, but he suspected if he pushed back against it he would find it brittle.  "You do, she says.  It is a small comfort to know that despite how rough he feels, one thing has not changed — Tux was always right.  

Her eyes would not leave him.  She looked tired, but her gaze was cautious, watchful.  No, he responds dully, should there be?

Raleska's shoulders were square, but the tension through them could have given a sequoia envy. Run, you idiot, came a voice somewhere in her mind -- a smarter voice, it seemed, than the one that controlled her actions currently. She knew they were ambush wolves by trade, and still, she stupidly stood.

Maybe she was too tired to run.

It was so tiring being on guard all the time. Being defensive all the time. Waiting for that other shoe to drop. It was like living on the edge of a guillotine, never knowing when it would go up or down, or when you might be caught in between it. Raleska felt her skin crawling, and something was leaving her fast - resolve? Bravery? All she knew was she was just so tired, and now there was another wolf from her past she wished wasn't here, and when would it end if ever?

A tremble of her lip betrayed something brewing, something not yet at the surface of her stormy countenance. "Yes." She replied, still stiff and cold. She did not believe him, and it showed by the way her gaze flickered up and down the shore, expectantly. "You guys always come out in pairs, out of nowhere. Just.... make it quick." Raleska took in a deep breath and readied herself helplessly for what came next -- any second now, his friends would show up (surely they were looking for him anyway, right?), and she would be fighting for her life like she seemed to do every day. At least today, her daily demons could bleed. At least this time, if she fought back maybe, just maybe, she could

There was a time when Tux would have jumped at the chance to end her life — when tensions between Drageda and Rusalka were at an all-time high.  But not anymore.  He'd grown up since then, and although Drageda might consider Rusalkans enemies, something in her words tells him Rusalka was no longer.  Or if they were still around, they weren't here.  There was a twinkle eye that colored in his otherwise blank and tired expression.

I tell the truth, he says, taking a single step closer, head down.  He remained alert: ears cupped forward, tail stiff and low. I do not want to hurt you.

Raleska saw -- but could not decipher -- the glitter in the male's gaze. He was a stranger, and her understanding of him was woefully slim. All she knew was once, they had been ready to rip each other's throats out... and not so long ago, she had nearly had her life ended by Dacio and Opalia not that far from here. If it had not been for her packmates..

The memory she had fought so hard to ignore roared to the surface; Raleska's eyes flashed in dull terorr.

For every step Tux took forward, Raleska took a shaky one back. Her body was wound tighter than she ever remembered it being. Her hocks dug into the sand, and she was aware of the wind at her back. She was too tired for this. There was just too much to hold onto, too much to hold together -- her breath was becoming more and more raspy, yet for all of her rapid breathing she felt as if she had gotten no air at all. Her heart was pounding, her head swimming, and her legs seemed afire with strange palpitations. "Why sh--" punctuated by her shortness of breath -- "ould I --" another gasping breath -- "believe you?"

He was larger than her and though he was weak, he could not change the fact that his legs were longer.  With each sweeping stride she scattered backwards in the sand.  He paused, watched her retreat.  Although he had never experienced such helplessness, he recognized it.

Something had hurt her.  Something or, more likely, someone.  He wondered if it had been someone from Drageda.  If one of the natrona had come back here and went after her flesh.  He could not tell if it were a recent wound or one more buried; so much had happened since then that he remembered little of their hatred for one another.  To him, she was just a girl he knew briefly when he was young.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.

You have no reason to, he admits, succumbing to the weight of his body and resting in the sand to give his trembling legs a rest.  but I am in no shape to hurt you, even if it were my desire.  He opens and closes his mouth again, whines.

With what seemed to be little concern for her panic, he says, Is there freshwater nearby?

Faster and faster her breath went -- it was not until Tux sat down that Raleska's rapidfire breathing seemed to even slightly slow; her heart was positively thrashing against her ribcage and she felt like she was in no control of her body. Thank god he had swept to the ground -- Raleska couldn't have even mustered another step back if she had wanted to.

Her legs felt like jelly, and it was all she could do to look around as Tux asked for fresh water. Her mouth formed words, yet no sound came save her ragged breathing. A lightheadedness had overtaken her, and it took nearly a full minute of huffing before Raleska's near-panic attack subsided. "I --" Her mouth clicked shut; why was she here still? She should run.

Thinking of water was enough to rein in the terror that had briefly taken home in her heart. She fell back against her sweeping haunches, propping herself in an awkward sitting position in the sand. "There used to be some over that ridge." Her voice was breathless as she spoke, for her composure had yet to return. "It's all flooded." She glanced Tux's way warily, knowing she was vulnerable if he had been untrue. Yet in her current state, she wouldn't be able to outrun anything -- a stitch of pain fired alongside her belly, as her breathing had yet to return to normal.

He watched her for a long time as she struggled to catch her breath, but eventually it worked.  Well, of course it worked — it was his idea — he just wished he knew which part.  His lip twitched upwards for a moment as she stood, and he raised his head with what strength he had left.  

There used to be some over that ridge, she said.  His brows pulled together for a moment as he realized he recognized that, too — how close to Dragoncrest Cliffs was he?  He cast a glance behind him at the challenging slope that separated the sound from his birthplace and his gut dropped past his paws and into the churning, molten, angry core of the earth.  He wanted to go home.  But he knew he was in no condition to scale the cliffs, especially if the only reason was some sentimentality.  His face crumpled for a moment before he grit his teeth and let out a metered breath through his tightened jaw that released a plume of fog.

When he returned his attention to Raleska, his features had darkened.  If looks could kill.  The sudden harshness in his dusky gaze was frightening, but when he spoke, he sounded dejected and as vulnerable as a child. That doesn't help me now.

Raleska had only just managed to get her emotions under control when Tux looked from the cliff back to her. She saw in his gaze something change, something dark -- and distinctly, it reminded her of the malevolent tightening of a serpent. Her ears pinned as she regarded that inhospitable expression, one she knew would have spelled her end if the boy was in better shape.

She took care to add more distance between them. Aware of how quickly that stormy expression had devoured his features, Raleska wanted to put as much distance between them as she could. Part of her wanted, right then, to cast him back to sea -- but Raleska had never been a cruel wolf. There had been many chances where she could have been cruel, but it had never been her nature. "You could try to eat the snow.." Raleska motioned to past the sands, where the wind had not stripped all of the snow from the sands. It was not a short distance, but she supposed it beat climbing up hill. That gave her the idea -- if she could find ice somewhere, maybe she could bring it back.. but.. why was she helping a Dragedan?

She scattered at the darkness within him and for whatever reason, that made him feel worse.  As much as she had once hated her for what she was — a Rusalkan, an enemy — wasn't she the closest thing to home he had right now?  There was some kind of twisted safety in knowing that if noting else, he had that.

That could work, he muttered, the shame inside of him sharpening, turning into an edge in his voice that he'd wield against her.  He moved to stand and though his legs trembled beneath him, he could do at least that.  It was when he tried to walk that he knew he wouldn't make it far — he stumbled beneath his own weight and landed chest-first in the sand with one of his legs twisted uncomfortably underneath him.

It wasn't broken, but he wasn't getting anywhere without help and support.  The problem was, he couldn't make himself ask for it.  He was so stubborn that he'd rather die before he asked; it was instead there unspoken in his eyes as they glanced sidelong at the girl whose presence was tenuous at best.

An attempt was made -- Raleska could leave it at that, at best.

Once, she might have laughed at him. He was, after all, born of the blood her blood had waged against; he was an enemy, inexorably -- in the way her mother would always be inexorably of her blood.

Yet, Raleska did not feel any triumph, watching her enemy struggle. She felt something that wasn't pity, but wasn't scorn either. It was something sad, something sorrowful -- like watching something living suffer. She derived no joy in that.

She derived no joy in helping him either. She wanted so desperately to leave him there in the sand, for the birds to pick over.. but it just wasn't her. He was lucky, in that measure, that she was not entirely her mother's daughter.

"Here." Raleska came towards him timidly, keeping her hind legs angled away from him. It could all be a ploy, she knew - maybe he was feigning weakness to get her close. She thought she was being stupid, helping him - but she couldn't just leave him in good conscience all the same.

Shakily offering her shoulder, Raleska felt her breathing rate rapidly increase -- and prepared for the moment this all went disastrously south.

He could not deny that there was still a part of him that wanted to rend her flesh, wanted to feel her fine bones crack beneath his terrible and decisive jaws.  It was the part of him that hadn't grown up yet, the boy in him that wanted to crush the sentimentality out for he did not know it was the very same sentimentality that would make him a man.  

But the larger part of himself knew that without her help he likely would not survive.  He closed his eyes, breathed the feeling back, counted up to ten in his mind in his mother tongue.  In the darkness behind his closed lids he wondered what nomi would think of him for this — would she be proud of him for reigning in his pride, or would she have preferred that he keep the integrity of Drageda intact to die by his own hand?

In that moment Tux's foundation was shifted irreparably by an earthquake of insight: perhaps there were fates worse than natrona after all.

He lifted himself again and used Raleska's trembling body to support himself.  Thank you, he rumbled quietly as he began to walk towards the snow.  Where are the rest of you? They should be here, shouldn't they?

While Tux dealt with the irreparable truth that came like a dogged hound for every child the moment they realized their fundaments were merely mortal constructs, Raleska grappled with her own intuition. She had, in some ways, already abandoned much of her foundations -- but somewhere a voice in the back of her head was screaming incessantly that she was in danger.

She tried to override it, startling at his touch as he pressed against her. If he was at full health, and he turned upon her, their spat would be quick: Raleska was physically capable, but far smaller. She pushed against his weight instinctively, guiding him with shaky breaths. His question was left unanswered for several seconds, as a prickish voice reminded her that this might be information an enemy was interested, and not harmless casual conversation.

She decided to tell him the truth, albeit somewhat withheld. "They're not here anymore. Everything flooded. There's been earthquakes all over." Had he not been aware? Raleska realized, maybe Drageda had dispersed to somewhere far indeed, if destruction had never come to their doorstep the way it had come to Rusalka's. Maybe this was Fate's bitter sense of ironic retribution.

They were now twenty meters or so from the first dusting of snow -- how Raleska wished they could get there sooner -- so she could upend the burden of his skin against hers', and fight the sense of betrayal she felt welling within her.

Funny, how the sound had flooded yet the cliffs still stood.  I believe you, he says, casting a glance around at the destruction around him.  He wondered if there were parts of his homeplace that had been ruined that he just couldn't see — perhaps some things were better left in the past, where the clarity of adulthood couldn't touch (or ruin) the nostalgia. We haven't experienced any of that, though there was a storm.  The hair on his neck threatened to raise as he remembered being sucked down into the crushing weight of the water.  It must've been what nomi felt before —

With her help they closed the distance on the snow and he let himself collapse into it, legs folded neatly beneath him as he chomped like some feral creature at the scarce dusting.  His teeth chattered as water dribbled down his chin, but the coldness was welcome because with it came the water he so desperately desired.  Sated for now, he licked his lips and looked up at the girl again.  Maybe one day they will reclaim this place.  The water would eventually recede, as it always did.

Raleska watched, gaze distant, as Tux lurched for the snow. The moment their sides ceased touching, she was surprised by the coldness that lingered along her flank. The sudden exposure.

She moved dumbly, stepping past Tux to where a bank of small icicles had frozen; runoff from a nearby sequoia. Grasping the ice in her teeth, Raleska wrenched it free with a crack. Bringing it back to Tux, she simply looked out at the coastline, gaze tracing from cliff to distant stacks with a sense of overwhelming loneliness. "Maybe. Maybe not though. It all seems so stupid now." Ironic, wasn't it? Once they had fought tooth and nail for their right to be here, as Drageda had fought tooth and nail to extricate them.. and now, no one remained at all.

He lifted his head to her, watched as she wrenched the ice free and brought it back to him.  So Rusalka was still together, even if it wasn't here — at least, he thought he could infer such from her response.  He paused for a long while as he thought of what she said.

He cast a glance to the cliffs, then back to her.  I suppose it does, doesn't it?  Dragoncrest would always mean something to him.... but Drageda's claim is elsewhere.  Fleetingly he thinks that if they have moved on, so should he.  

(but for now, he cannot move on.)

He took the ice in his jaws and cracked it, swallowing it almost in too-big pieces that made his saltstung throat hurt even more.  He choked for a second but it passed quickly, and once he had swallowed it he finally said, Thank you for helping me.

Once the icicle was in Tux's paws, Raleska found herself thinking once, she had nearly been between those teeth. The thought sent a chill howling up her spine, and some of her breathlessness from before returned.

Not this time, she swore. Maybe much of what happened was behind her, but she would never forget how close Drageda had come to killing her. Shuddering, Raleska looked away and gained much of her lost composure in a few reedy breaths.

Thank you for helping me. Raleska looked back sharply, realizing -- she had, hadn't she? What did it mean? Did it mean the next time she came across a party of Dragedans and Tux was among them, her life would be spared? Or did it mean nothing at all? Would she be killed, like Eurycrates had, while the Dragedan party moved on, rolling over all the lives like it had done to her own?

She shook the image of her spilled blood from her mind, and nodded dumbly. "What.. now?"

He doesn't notice how untethered she becomes again, and of course he has no clue the contents of the whirling thoughts in her mind.  It is casually, almost lazily that he looks at her.  I don't know.  He carries the tension for a moment before he allows a dry, pitiful laugh.  I just came out of the ocean, and you expect me to have the answers?  He smirks, then casts his gaze back at the ground.  Is it appropriate to joke here?  After all their families have done to one another, he isn't so sure.

You can go, if you want.  And if I see you again, I won't hurt you then, either.

The bitter, tired laugh that spills from Tux's lips caused Raleska's eyes to snap back. She knew and recognized that humor - and shared the briefest of unsure smiles between the two of them before a somberness crept back to her visage.

He had just come from the ocean, hadn't he? She wondered how far, too. He was not really in shape for her to leave him in good conscience.. and a part of her mother, the more clever part of her, urged her to extend help in other ways, too.. maybe, if she was generous now, it could be the bid that ended all enmity between their factions. He had promised not to hurt her if he saw her again, which was affirming.. but was it enough?

Raleska didn't want to be dragged into her mother's wars anymore. No one did. A sheepish, tentative look overtook her as she spoke her mind: "do you.. want to heal up in Rusalka? I mean.. I could leave you here, but I don't think it's right to do so."

A flickering, dangerous flame in his stomach.  Would Trigeda take him back, if he became the enemy for even a short period of time?  Could he do the same as his sire, to live among them, learn their secrets, and report home?  

Did he even want to?

There was no part of him anymore that wanted to go to war.  Truthfully, Trigeda was too far away for Rusalka to matter to them anymore.  Even if he were to bring home their secrets, what would it matter?  Tux would never be esteemed — Tux could never be heda.  

He sat in silence for a long time.  To accept this offer could mean that he could never go home.  Hell, that might already be the case.  He disappeared without word.  He could already be considered natrona and even if he wasn't, he'd have to explain himself upon his return.

It was too much for him.  I would like that, he says finally, quietly, as if all of the fire inside him had died out.  He made an effort to stand, cast another glance over his shoulder at the cliffside behind him.

Another time, then.

A silence spread between them. Raleska's gaze traveled from Tux to the sea, as if to take the pressure off of him  - off of his thoughts. She was shrewd enough to understand, in a rather basic way, what he was grappling with. It was the self-same reality she had wrestled with a moment later.

Enough time had passed where Raleska thought he was going to say no. It would have been no skin off of her back, though admittedly she would have felt rejected. She was about to even suggest he say no, in the event maybe he was just struggling with how to turn her down kindly, or politely -- but then, he acquiesced.

Well, shit.

She hadn't thought ahead enough - and balked as he moved, turning back to the cliff. Her gaze followed his, trailing the distant series of stones with a look of thoughtful detachment. She hoped she never came here again. "Alright, then."

Raleska bent her shoulder towards Tux, readying herself for whatever weight pressed against her -- wondering if she had made the right call.

Shouldering Tux against her, Raleska made for home.