Otatso Wetlands You can break me if that's what you want

Set at night, lmao. @Miraak

It was another night where sleep was evasive, leaving him to lay there with little to do. He’d considered seeking out Ocra and waking her, just as he’d done once before, but had ultimately decided against it. She hadn’t seemed too happy about being woken up the last time, and had appeared to have troubles then staying awake. It was best to just leave her alone and focus elsewhere, and so he’d pulled himself up to his feet and set off through the grove. The territory held his attention for a short while, but once he’d grown bored of just wandering aimlessly, he’d set out over the borders.

The marsh was avoided, for the most part, but even still there’d not been a lot of time wasted before he’d reached the wetlands. There was something about it—perhaps a sense of familiarity?—that lured him in, the streams of moonlight being followed after as he worked to further explore the area. As time went by, an unsettling feeling developed within him, which he’d waved off as best he could in order to focus on all that he was seeing. Something about it seemed off, but he couldn’t yet figure out what it was.

He was unsure as to why he was drawn so far from the Woods, past the mountains. Wanderlust called to him early that night, soon after the sun set beneath the sky. It was a typical chilly autumn evening, wind pushing and pulling through his fur as he strode farther north than he had so far. It wasn't long before he reached a particularly interesting landmark. His paws sunk into wet ground and he snorted softly.

He trudged forward through the muck, standing on the more solid ground, though it was not as bad as the swamp on the eastern side of the Woods. He eventually reached a gliding rhythm, moving gracefully through the wetlands. It was a beautiful sight, the moon's glow radiating through the trees of the swamp; he had no doubt it reflected against his fur, making him glow in that peculiar way similar to ravens and crows.

The deeper he delved into the territory, the more unsettled he grew. It was different from the woods, and almost entirely so, but the feeling underfoot was similar to the swamps. The similarity was enough to make him fold his ears back, glancing around every so often to make sure that he wasn’t being followed—stalked, is more like it. He knew it to be rather foolish, especially since he could both see and understand that he wasn’t in the woods, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. It was funny, too, for should the sun have been up, the wetlands were the type of location that he’d take shelter in from its light. Now though, whilst the moon was out and the shadows crawled across the earth, he wasn’t so sure he should remain there.

Alexander had been ready to turn around, to end his adventure and head back to the grove, but something had captured his attention. In the distance, he’d spotted something moving through the stretches of moonlight. There was something about it that had encouraged him to creep closer, avoiding as much of the light as possible. What he’d come to see, however, had brought him to a dead stop. He blinked once or twice, ears up and eyes wide, certain that he was seeing a phantom. Shocked, it was easy to ignore the masculine scent in the air and what little differences the wolf had from the late Queen—all he could see was her. “Meldresi,” the boy breathed out, eyes trained on his saviour’s ghost. He raised a paw, readying himself to take a step forward, but was unable to actually complete the motion. He didn’t want her to leave, to be scared off or chased away, and so he stayed right where he’d stopped. Across the backs of his thighs had his tail then started to sweep, excited to be seeing her again after so long.

He let his mind wander for a bit, reflecting on what had occurred over the past few weeks, almost months now. He had come all this way, only to find his sister gone to the Void without a final word from her. All he found was the legacy she created, the three children she bore, one of whom was pregnant herself, the Dark Brotherhood, still in its infancy, still growing. He could train them in the ways of his sect, but he felt it wouldn't fit. Unlike in the other places, there were no longstanding packs with generations upon generations behind them to the point of a seemingly near eternal history. It was chaotic, an inopportune place for a cult dedicated to sowing chaos. He smirked at that irony, the breath visible in the air in front of him. But with the children growing and those soon to be born, perhaps it might be easier for them to establish a true name for themselves. Perhaps.

He froze in his tracks, the movement of another creature in his proximity alerting him, dispelling what contemplative thoughts he had. He turned towards the white creature in the distance, who looked upon him in awe. For a moment he thought it was the other boy, the one who had so readily given himself to him. A flicker of passion overcame him for a moment, but the voice was different. And he was sure the black-footed boy would not know Meldresi, nor did he remember him having such crimson eyes. He turned to face him fully, shaking his head. I am afraid not, He answered, wondering what his sister had meant to the boy. He had no interaction with Alexander before, only his father, giving the shade a strange sense of recognition as he introduced himself. I am her younger brother Miraak,

The other turned towards him, and he couldn’t help but take a step forward at last, drawn in by the eyes. They were familiar, and something he had missed seeing, though it wasn’t long before he’d realized that something wasn’t right. It hit him even harder when the male shook his head and spoke, explaining how he wasn’t the woman he so closely resembled. Xan’s tail ceased all movements immediately and his ears slicked back against his head, realizing his mistake—and what a mistake it had been. The wolf wasn’t even a female, which he should have noticed before having said anything, but he hadn’t. Having been too caught up in an illusion, the reality of the matter had flown right over his head. But, it wasn’t a complete loss, if Miraak’s claim proved to be true. Was the brother of Meldresi just as great as she had been, or could he not even compare? He was curious to find out, but not enough to proceed forward.

“You look a lot like her,” he said, attempting to ignore his disappointment. Honestly, Alexander knew that the dead could not rise again, but the mind is an easy thing to fool when one is desperate enough. “She was really nice,” the ghost commented, then fell silent. He felt as if he still owed her, still had to live up to whatever image she had predicted for him. Whether or not he’d ever be able to, he didn’t know. Shaking his head, the boy then added, “I’m Xan.” He couldn’t not introduce himself to the late Queen’s brother. Though in debt to Meldresi, perhaps he would be able to honour whatever wishes she might have had through her brother; Alexander didn’t know that the two hadn’t really grown up together, nor did he suspect that Miraak might not know what his sister could have wanted.

The boy's disappointment was so easy to read, it almost hurt Miraak to see it. So many wolves admitted their disappointment in his resemblance; his very presence seemed to conjure up memories, bringing wistful thoughts of his sister to mind. How much of an effect did she have on the wolves of Blackfeather, he would never truly know, nor grasp. He could only observe the results. So I've heard, He said, a slight smile crossing his face. Again and again he was reminded of it, both here and at home. His memories of Meldresi were strange; while they were extremely alike in appearance, that was all they ever completely shared. She was two years older, an adult by the time he was born. While he gravitated towards her — she was a tantalizing person, it seemed — she was too far away to ever truly grasp. She was a priestess of Mephala, he an assassin. Their mindsets, their beliefs, could not be anymore different.

He could not say if she was nice. Those who served Mephala and Sithis, no matter how polite and pleasant they seemed on the outside, could not be completely defined as nice. But, perhaps things had changed for Mel'. Perhaps, when she became a mother, things changed for her. He would never know. How did you know my sister, Xan? He was young, and if he was getting his timelines correct, he must have been still a pup when she was alive, or at least when they first met. He wasn't her son, luckily; Pietro, Meldresi's youngest, died, as Damien said. But perhaps, like Xan, he was seeing ghosts in these wetlands as well.

Just as Miraak could never fully understand all that his sister had done, Xan could not grasp the differences between them. Not just yet, at least. The man had scars where Meldresi hadn’t, and something about him set the siblings apart, but he could not place exactly what it was. That lack of information had, at first, kept him back. Distanced away from the other wolf more so than what was truly necessarily, gaze never to leave his direction. As the seconds ticked by, however, he’d found himself able to move towards the elder, but was still careful to stop far enough away that he’d have some wiggle room if ever he might need to flee. A piece of his mind told him that he didn’t have to, and another that he simply shouldn’t, given the shadow’s relations. It’d taken a reminder of Cicero, and how blood alone could not carry with it trust, to keep himself from treating Miraak as if he were his sister.

Never had he been the sort to talk about himself. He’d boast and shoot out cocky remarks, but to actually speak about himself and what he might have experienced or felt was never done. And yet, when asked a question, he’d not kept himself from answering. “My father took me to the woods with him when he’d returned to it,” the yearling began, able to remember everything, despite his age at the time. It was the sort of memory that just wouldn’t go away, no matter how much time passed. “She gave me a real home. She didn’t let anyone get rid of me,” he’d finished. Even now, the hatred that he’d known Burke to feel towards him was still acknowledged. Whether or not he was still detested mattered little, for the feeling itself remained and that was what matter to him. Had it not been for Meldresi, he couldn’t imagine what his life would have turned out to be like, and it was for that very reason that he wanted to honour her somehow—just as much as when he’d talked to Damien so long ago, too, and had been encouraged to live up to her expectations.

Only at the mention of a father did Miraak finally connect Xan to Kove. The resemblance was there, but he did not want to automatically connect them just because they were white wolves who knew Meldresi. It seemed too obvious, and yet it was the truth. He scoffed at himself internally, Your father is Kove, then?

This welcoming part of Meldresi was familiar and yet distant. She welcomed people of all walks of life and even religion, strange for such a devout person such as her. The thought of her welcoming a child into her fold wasn't surprising to him. That sounds like her alright, He sighed wistfully. He wished he had the time to see this new, yet still the same, sister. It was one of the things he ever truly regretted, that he didn't make it in time. But yet here you are, no longer smelling of the Woods. Did someone get rid of you? He was not fully invested in the internal politics of the pack yet; he even suspected that it was relatively civil between wolves, a worrying thought. He barely scented Xan within pack borders before he left, paying no mind when it disappeared.

Having not expected for it to take long before the dots were connected, he’d not been surprised by the mentioning of his father’s name. Though the colour of his eyes usually prevented him from being able to see any similar physical traits between himself and the elder Inuk, that didn’t mean that they weren’t there. He nodded, confirming the suspicion, whether it was necessary that he do so or not. “Yeah,” he’d verbalized, right before asking, “Is he doing okay?” Kove hadn’t been angered by his son’s departure, but the boy still worried. There was a chance that he’d been replaced already, or that something had happened to his dad, but never would he know until told.

In all honesty, Alexander hadn’t know the Queen for very long. He’d hardly spent any time with her, too, but still had such minimal meetings been enough to ensnare him. The tales he’d heard of her had contributed to his idolization of the woman, but always would it be her acceptance of him that would keep her from fading from his memory. Always had he wished to make her proud, but he knew there to be a chance that he’d done the exact opposite. He was reminded of his separation from the home she’d given him by a question, one of which that had made him turn his head away. Rather than staying on Miraak, his gaze had been directed towards the ground, and there he stared whilst speaking. “Someone did,” was his response, refusing to give up any details. “Do you think that she’d be mad at me? For letting someone chase me from the home that she gave me?” In spite of how important the question was to him, he couldn’t look up. Everything that she had done to keep him there had been wiped away by his decision to leave—by his inability to fight for what he wanted.

As far as I knew he is doing fine, He didn't ask about the woman, Nemesis, who was the mother of Kove's youngest litter. Were they not on speaking terms? She was rather harsh at best, after all; perhaps he had done something, something minor, to aggravate her. He would not be surprised. Nor did he ask about his younger siblings, of which were already fantastic characters within their own rights. Perhaps he figured they would be ok by default.

Whatever it was, something, something painful, pushed the young man away from the Woods. It was still a point of embarrassment and shame, whatever it was. He was annoyed when the crimson irises were directed towards the ground, rather than to him. Look at the person you are speaking to, He wished for his opinion, yes? Then why couldn't he meet his eyes? Was it because they reminded him too much of Meldresi, the woman he was afraid of disappointing. Miraak frowned; they still could not remove the association, the familiarity. You must have had a good reason to leave the home you've treasured for so long. My sister was nothing if understanding. He paused for a moment, a memory fleeting through his brain. He snorted a soft laugh. I cannot remember ever seeing her be angry. It was nearly impossible to rile her up, It was not without lack of trying, however. Nothing seemed to phase her; the best anyone could do was frustrate her.

Xan nodded, accepting the answer given. He had thought to ask about Nemesis, to hear what she might be up to, but hadn’t bothered with it. She was likely busy with her actual children, none of which he had chosen to ask about, either. Though he’d accepted them to a certain extent, having been away from them for so long had left him without the opportunity to really connect with them. They were blood, but were they really family? He’d yet to decide, not knowing if he actually wanted to be in their lives, or vice versa.

He would have continued to stare at the ground had he not been told to do otherwise. It was not without a great deal of hesitation that he’d managed to drag his gaze back up towards Miraak’s own. For a moment, he’d met it, but no more than a second later and he’d lowered his eyes to a different part of the man’s face. He was ashamed of what had happened, and could not even consider focusing on those eyes whilst thinking about it. To think that it had been her very own son that had forced the yearling out, when Meldresi herself had been so inviting. It became harder to not lift his head back up when he’d received his answer, leading to the eventual defeat of himself as he sought out those indigo optics, searching within them to see if the words were true. The Priestess had always been understanding and fair, having accepted the Apaata’s into her home even after the failure of his father’s mission. He should have known that she couldn’t be angry with him, but that had only been realized after her brother had spoken of her. “She was always calm, always had the answers,” added the boy, unable to recall a time when she was anything but collected. “I miss her, and the woods. I wanted you to be her.” He still did. However impossible it was, the thought still crossed his mind that, maybe, Miraak could morph into his sister if Xan wished for it hard enough—and wish he did. Though not a bad man, he wasn’t Meldresi, which was who the Inuk wanted most of all.

When commanded to, his eyes drew up towards him. Miraak matched the boy's wavering gaze levelly, listening once more to him speak. It pained his heart to hear others, strangers, speak of her so highly. It only reminded him time and time again that she was gone, that he could never speak with her again. She was his moral lifeline in his adolesence, his advisor and mentor in his adult years. And now? A dream. He felt that no one could match her in...anything. He shook his head, talking more for himself than the boy now. She has gone to the Void. We cannot bring her back; none of us have that strength and I doubt she would want to leave, The tales of the Void seemed more welcoming to Mephala and Sithis' followers than it did to those dragged into it. What it truly held was unknown to him, for now. I cannot be her, not for you, not for anyone. I never was her. He sighed, I do not know why you have left, but that was your choice. Whether or not you can return will not matter to Meldresi; you can still serve her outside of her Woods. I can bet that was her intention anyway, Meldresi was never the kind to simply let things stay stagnant. She was bound to send her followers out into the world, eventually. Perhaps this was meant to be. He was no Dark Brother, but he was raised in the cult. He could still serve.

They couldn’t bring her back. He’d been told that before, how death was a permanent thing, but he’d still been hopeful. Somewhere out there, perhaps there existed someone with the ability to breathe life back into those that were believed to be dead. It was a stretch, he knew, but could it not be possible? The answer was one that he didn’t have, and so the question was left untouched. Someday, he would find his answer, though it was doubtful that it’d be the one he so desired. So, once again he had nodded, accepting what the man had said even if some part of him had wanted for it to be untrue.

Alexander was aware of the fact that the man could never turn into the woman whose presence he desired. Always had they been two separate beings, and nothing would ever be able to change that. “I know, but—,” he stopped himself, mouth closing as he shook his head. It was not Meldresi standing before him, but Miraak, and that would not change. It was painful to admit that his wish could never come true, that he would not see his Queen again until it was his turn to die, but it had been important that he do so. “How can I serve her? What can I do to make her proud?” he went on to ask, staring expectantly at the man. Never had he earned for himself a place within the Brotherhood, and never had he been told what all he could do beyond the woods in order to serve under the Priestess’ vision. Xan did not have any answers for himself, but he wanted to believe that Miraak might. That the man could answer for him every question he might have, and direct him down a path that would lead to the boy having made Meldresi proud. It was all he really wanted now, and would likely always want.

He did not know what Meldresi wanted for this boy; he could only guess, grasp at her vision and message. It was clear from what she was intending with the pack that she wanted a base of operations for the Dark Brotherhood in Teekon Wilds, somewhere safe, dark, with hidden nooks and crannies that they could exploit to bewilder any enemies who dared corner them. Xan was no Dark Brother, even if he had stayed in the Woods for so long. Whether or not he believed in Mephala and Sithis was unknown to him as well, but he could only guess that his devotion to Meldresi translated into such.

First and foremost: make yourself happy. Find a safe place for you. That was what Meldresi offered, but she can no longer do so. You have to provide that for yourself. I believe that is what she intended to happen: to hold you safe until you could take care of yourself, It sounded sappy, but from what he could glean from the others who knew her in her final years, it resembled her gradual mellowing. But if anyone needs information or a job done, you can always direct wolves to the Dark Brotherhood, He doubted that she was completely soft; she did maintain the Dark Brotherhood after all.

The yearling remained attentive, eager to hear what Miraak might tell him. It had always been his intention to repay the Queen for having given him a home, and to think that he might be closer to doing so left him feeling impatient. He’d jump if told to, for her, unable to go against what it was believed that she might have wanted for him. Yet, as the man spoke, he’d grown confused for a moment or two. It had seemed too simple, but he had forced himself to not question it. Xan had been quick to assume that, despite having never seen the older wolf around the woods during his time there, the siblings had been close—close enough for Meldresi’s wish to be told through the mouth of her brother. Whether or not it had truly been her plan could not be known until the boy died, but he was willing to place his trust in the stranger. Blood meant little, usually, but he’d been unable to resist the temptation that was trusting the wolf he’d only just met due to his outward appearance. Perhaps he might someday regret that, but, for the time being, he could see no faults in his choice.

Alexander nodded, though his brow was furrowed as he thought about his current living arrangements. “I think I might have found a safe place,” he said, uncertainty not yet ready to leave his voice. “I don’t know if I’m happy yet, but I don’t think anyone will hurt me where I’m staying at.” That is, he hoped they wouldn’t. Everything seemed to be going well thus far, making it doubtful that they might ever turn against him, but one could never be too sure. “I’ll keep an eye out for anyone like that,” stated the boy, then followed it up with, “I’ll make sure to send them to the Brotherhood. I don’t want to let her down.” Not again. Even if he had to expand his travel zone in order to find wolves in need of the Brotherhood’s assistance, he would do so just for her.

The albino did not smell of a pack, but of a few strong wolf scents. He did not seem familiar with these wetlands, but he was probably from close by then. Where are you staying? He was not sure how Meldresi's children thought of Xan, but it was important information for the pack, regardless of their personal experiences with him. If he had left the pack, then something awfully bad must have happened...but he would pry into that another time, with other wolves.

Keep in touch when you can, With winter coming messages between them would be slowed, but a connection must be maintained. He was raised by Meldresi, still loyal to Meldresi. To severe a connection such as that would be a waste. He doubted that Mel' would like that one bit. Even if you find no one. Be our eyes and ears in the north,

When asked about where he was staying, he’d glanced around in order to survey his surroundings. Once he’d realized where he was, he pointed in the direction that he’d come from with his muzzle. “There’s a grove east of here,” the yearling added, having little more to offer aside from that. “There are others there, too.” Several individuals, each one being different from the others. He wasn’t yet sure what to make of most of them, but he’d started to like Sriracha and Ocra, and so leaving was out of the question. Besides, if not with them, where would he stay? He thought of Desna and her home, but disregarded the thought right away. Though the siblings had started to find some sort of level ground with one another, Xan wasn’t so sure he’d ever be able to live with her, and definitely not under her; no matter how much time had passed or how much had happened, that firstborn mentality was still there, lingering within the recesses of his mind.

Looking back towards Miraak, he listened to what was said and then offered a nod of his head, accepting the idea. Though he felt a mixture of concern, anxiety, and perhaps even fear at the thought of getting close to the woods again, some part of him recognized that it was necessary. He’d just have to hope that anyone other than Cicero greeted him at the borders, and then, maybe, he would be okay. “I can do that,” he said, then added, “I will do that.” Despite his hesitance over the thought of visiting the woods, he would do so—for Meldresi.

A pack then? It seemed high time for groups of wolves to band together into makeshift packs, mostly out of survival above all else. He was not surprised by the location nor timing; actually it was ideal. It was the perfect vantage point for Xan to gain information of the north; close enough to the Woods to relay information, but far enough to dissuade any thoughts of cooperation.

He nods at the albino's earnest answer. He was happy that he was willing to do this for them, or anything really. He could have asked anything of the boy and he would have done it: ask him jump, he would ask how high? Let us meet here, next moon, He offered, taking in their surroundings. Or do you know a better place?

Whether or not the group he’d gotten himself involved with could be considered a pack, he wasn’t certain. They were a group of wolves, yes, but did there exist anyone out there that might respect their claim? They were still few in number, not yet large enough to hold their own should someone wish to throw them out of the grove. Still, the devotion he felt kept him from doubting whether or not he’d defend the land, should it ever come to that—and wasn’t that a key component of packs? The defense they put up in order to protect their own? It seemed likely enough, and so he nodded. “Yeah, a pack,” the yearling responded, having come to that conclusion. Whether or not outsiders considered them to be a real pack did not matter, because he felt as if they were. His loyalty would always be to the woods, but he liked the grove enough to protect it and those within.

When it was suggested that they should meet again, Alexander nodded once more. “Here works fine,” said he. “I’m still learning my way around this area, so I don’t know about too many other places just yet.” He was learning—or at least trying to—but it would be some time yet before he felt as comfortable traveling there as he had around the woods. The more he thought about it, however, the more he believed that learning about the region would be necessary. Without much hesitation, he quickly added: “I’ll travel around up here more if I need to.” As it currently stood, he really would do just about anything for Blackfeather and, of course, Meldresi.

All seemed well. He was not as well versed with espionage as the others were. He had met with contacts before, transferred information, but little else. What he had said seemed best for their network to expand northward, if for a while. This pack...group...whatever it was or wanted to be, was not stable, but packs were never truly stable either. Regardless, it was set. He nodded. It was what she would have wanted, And it was true. This was her mission, and she had not failed. Not yet. Not while he was around.

I shall leave you to it then, He said with a nod, preparing to head back to the Woods. Damien would need to hear the news.

To know that he would be performing a task that Meldresi would have wanted for him was, undoubtedly, settling. It put him at ease, as well as allowed for his confidence to begin healing. For the late queen, he would be doing something, and he would put his best efforts into it. The packs of the north would someday learn of the yearling, for he would gather from them as much information as he could. Then, when the time is right, every ounce of knowledge collected would be shared with Blackfeather. He would make Meldresi proud, even if it killed him, for his debt to her had never been paid prior to her passing; the respect he felt towards her was far too great for him to just forget his need to deliver payment, too.

With a nod, Alexander took the man’s words as a hint that the time for them to part ways had arrived. With nothing more the say, the Inuk watched Miraak take his leave and then did the same. Though his current destination was the grove, he would eventually venture beyond that land and into the unknown. All for the priestess, whose kindness was something that Xan might never forget.