Bearclaw Valley as you promised me that I was more than all the miles combined

tagging leadership for visibility, as he is technically tresspassing. @Ancelin @Ameline 

please only join this thread if you are one of three individuals I tagged!

it was unexpected, when he came across a familiar scent. one that he thought to belong to @Athalia. 

they'd been apart for some time. he'd grown accustomed to life on his own, and had done well for himself. or so he would say. 

but who could argue? he was alive, wasn't he? that was more than most could say for themselves. 

this place was one he hadn't visited. the valley was wide, resident to many scents. 

athalia wasn't alone here. of this much, he was certain. 

but that didn't deter the shadow cloaked boy. 

or, no.. man. he'd be a man now, right?

the birth of his newborns had frenzied ancelin into a werewolf's battle between reason and instinct, and as of late, the latter won out.
therefore, a trespasser in his valley, no matter how young the boy seemed to be, no matter that the same instinct signalled same to his singeing blood, the rage came first.
aching teeth pled for a target to rend; age-old furor burst ancelin from the foliage in a tangle of sap and mud and twigs, the bearclaw sodden and twisted into the fur of his chest.
his roar was terrible, and his teeth reached to maim.

omg

much to ashkova's chagrin, athalia would not recognize him in the way he did her.
as far as she was concerned, he was not her family. he was not welcome here. her real family was nested in the whelping den; and they were vulnerable. this was what drove athalia towards the intruding scent now, following ancelin's trail, raging with instinct to protect and to destroy.
she did not even stop to greet him. he would be met only with not one, but two sets of teeth, aimed straight for exposed throat.

not one, but two sets of teeth came for him. 

and one of them happened to be athalia, he was sure. 

hey— ! he howled in surprise, trying his best to scramble away, though failing. 

but it was probably his fault for not paying mind to the obvious borders he'd crossed into. what an idiot.

teeth snagged at his skin, his fur. but he only snapped his own in response, not wanting to do either harm. 

athalia? oh, how he hoped it was truly her. or he'd be screwed. it's me... ash! beneath the two, he hoped his shrill voice would be heard over their fury.

athalia was beside him in the span of a moment; ancelin was boldened by this and pressed forward into bloodier purchase with unrelenting teeth.
the only thing that stayed him was his daughter's name in that shouting mouth.
blood cold, flaring to heat, ancelin drew up with a snarl and a snap, a hard shove that said talk or die.
tail waving, he would allow athalia to mete out whatever she felt was best despite his own pause, intervening only with a growl if she did not break away from the mauling.
just for now.

he knew her name.
athalia's jaws tear away from the black nape which had been clenched in her grasp, chittering and clacking as she pulls back. she holds the boy down with a harsh shove of her well-muscled forelimb.
ash —
ash
ashkova
recognition flares behind the sunglow eyes long enough for her to meet him with a leveled look through the haze of blind rage. frozen, only for a second, before she is overcome with the foggy memory —
he had left. athamas had left. ksura had left. mother had left. amneris had left.
he had left athamas had left ksura had left mother had left amneris had left they left they left they left they all left her
he was not her brother
he was no one
bruin-witch, smiling up at her from hell
she looses a piercing shriek as she rounds upon him yet again, gnashing at his face, his throat, his chest, wildly trying to grab whatever piece of him she could get to; he had made this personal it was personal he had left her he had left her he had left her and now —
he was going to pay

unless she attacks further, or pursues he will flee. please let me know if i need to edit!

when the assault came to a halt, he blew out a relieved breath, but stayed pressed to the ground. 

so much for being a man.

she looks at him, and says nothing. her surprise is expected—but what she does next isn't. 

she attacks him again, this time with more eagerness to see him bleed than before! 

and bleed he did.

and yet still, he sets no teeth upon her. a scratch, maybe, as he attempts like hell to pull away. and if he'll let her, take quite a few paces back to gain suitable footing. 

when there is enough space, he kicks it into high gear, only sparing a second to throw a pained glance her way. not for the scars she'd now adorned him with, but the sting of rejection. 

but he'd deserved it. how foolish of him to think his own blood would be keen to see his return.

"stop," and his teeth clicked to separate them. at last ancelin saw a passing familiarity in the boy. he would not keep athalia from her pursuit despite the fact that his body seethed with rage and the need to rip the interloper apart.
with that there was no closure.
and when the moment came, ancelin set his hard indigo eyes upon his daughter. "who was he to you?"
there was no telling if she would even answer, but he felt compelled to remain upon the boundaryline for a long while, tail lashing and eyes pinned for shadows who might sneak into the valley once more.
but he had seen her knowing in her haunted eyes, for he had worn it on his own face the day that atreus abandoned him.
and this truth flashed across his own stare now, hatred for a sibling who had proven at a crucial moment that they contained a weakness so unfathomable they could no longer be suffered as kin.

athalia was not strong enough to kill him.
not physically, nor emotionally; as her stamina runs thin, the boy is successful in his bid to break free. she snaps her jaws at him again, moves to lunge, but tumbles to a stop as ancelin puts himself between she and he.
she thought he would have run screaming from her, but no, not immediately. the bright blue eyes burn into her own long enough for her to meet him with one glance of pure — hatred.
and yet she lets him leave. she cannot watch as the trail of scarlet disappears into the shrubbery, but she calls after him, finally releasing her voice, shrill and yet resolute; you come back, you die! son of a bitch!
her breath is sharp and heavy and frighteningly fast. ancelin's voice rounds upon her and her head whips toward him, reaching up to wipe away the blood which dribbles from her chin. the copper fur along her nape spikes. she looks at him as if he, too, was about to run — if one looked closely enough at the stony façade which swept her countenance, one would see fear beginning to bludgeon at her from beneath the surface.
brother, she says flatly, scooping herself up and cowering, away, away, away from ancelin. dead to me. not brother. he leave. everyone leave!
anger, returning;
he is like mama! her voice shatters into an unrecognizable, warbled cry, and she
crumbles.

he wasn't prepared to hear athalia swear, for some reason; he felt the echo of it in the air and in himself, felt her fury burning the air's oxygen. like an angry kitten she spat and shouted and flashed and finally collapsed in on herself with the weight of her own emotions.
and boy if that wasn't relatable.
ancelin scooped athalia up in the next moment, unwilling to let her project this pain over a brother onto him; he cleaned whatever blood remained from her face and smoothed those auburn hackles before stepping back; "my brother abandoned me too," the man revealed with a grunt that might have concealed pain. "our dad did the same, and our mom — well. she did too. she came back, but she didn't stay, and that was worse."
"so listen. we make our own family. if my brother showed up today i'd tell him you come back, you die, you son of a bitch," he quoted, trying for something like humor in his daughter's expression. "and fuck the rest. he can go live his own story. so can you."

it was all too much.
something in athalia broke this day, in this moment. knees tucked to her chest, curled in a bedraggled ouroboros; she cannot find it within herself to look at ancelin as he gingerly cleans her face, smooths down her fur. and then she hears his voice, and she pieces together notes inside her brain in an effort to make them meaningful to her.
perhaps what she saw in him from the very beginning was an invisible string that tied them together; generations of the same horrific cycle borne from the teeth of the bear's hideous maw. a tragedy that sat in the DNA of them both, shaped them both.
she struggles, glassy eyes blinking slowly as she picks up her head in order to look at him. snot forms a shiny trail down her chin.
family, she echoes, only a fraction of the volume that it had been at prior, prickly and draped in the thorns of retribution. not os-tre-ga. you,
and now she reaches out a trembling forepaw, pressing her own phalanges into the claw that sat curled in the fluff of his chest.
dad.

"dad."
his mouth trembled. he covered athalia's hand with his own, curling his rough claws around the tiny digits.
"dad," he said again, with more feeling, and caught her next in a tight hug.
he'd never experienced this rush of protective adoration before, pride, joy, delight, and even worry, the burgeoning fear of a realized father counting all the dangers that could befall a child.
his child, ancelin reminded himself, knowing full well that he'd tear the sun from the sky if it looked sideways at anyone he loved.
athalia had always been among that number.
"we can make our own story."