lol we are overdue for a thread
He had not fully explored this part of the land yet, and so, divesting his duties for the day, the witch slithered aimlessly through the caverns, pausing here and there to feel the coolness of the stone against his lips as he whispered prayers of protection over the ghost rocks.
Icewater eyes glowed from the darkness of a deep cavern as Lecter settled himself. Aside from the mundane exploration, he had come here for a purpose; at this time in his years, the madman rarely performed actions without intent. A low dirge spilled from him, summoning the brat prince Jinx insisted on keeping near. Confident that the caves would resonate and amplify his cry, Lecter fell silent, his own voice reverberating around him as he awaited Ira's approach.
Ira had been stalking patrolling along the borders, performing warden-like duties, figuring that maybe he should approach Jinx on picking it up as one of his apprenticeships since he was a recruiter and they sort of went hand in hand in a way, but had been a little too consumed with his blooming romance thing with Bones to focus on apprenticeships. Of course her stretch of absence left Ira with a lot of free time on his paws. He supposed he could have made it a point to get to better know the other members of Silvertip - and he would, he told himself, eventually. For now he was contented with eavesdropping and spying on them like the devil Princeling he was. He had entertained the idea, suggested by Jinx, of making him into an assassin and he worked on honing his patience and stealth, his ability to move quickly and near silently along the ridged and rocky slope of their towering cathedral of a home as it stretched towards the heavens.
Leg had just lifted to enforce the border with his own scent when Lecter let out a call, amplified, Ira assumed, by the cavern; it was a call for Ira himself. Leg lowered and sigh left the Princeling’s lips as he wondered why on the earth the Shaman was calling for him, and contemplated for a few moments on ignoring it and claiming that he had been out recruiting. What if it’s important? What if something happened to Jinx? Though Ira knew that Lecter did not care for him at all (it was quite mutual), the Shaman (loathe as Ira was to admit it) did seem to genuinely care about Jinx.
Not really wanting to hear a potential lecture about ignoring the summons of a wolf of higher rank than him Ira begrudgingly made his way to the caverns, following Lecter’s scent easily when he came across their mouth. his stepfather the Shaman when his crystalline eyes fell upon the other’s form.
Ira was prompt, a trait that Jinx shared, and his arrival was greeted with a low rumble of approval from the shaman. He did not care for Ira's arrogance and seeming lack of deference, but the boy served the sylph loyally, and that was what caught the shaman's attention.
Ira was being groomed for a specific role by the Kesuk woman, the details of which Lecter did not know, or care to understand. Soon, the boy would enter the ranks of the grown wolves and perhaps vie with the madman for his own, but perhaps that time would never come.
"I grow tired of the enmity between us. You know I am not long for this world, and when I depart, you will have no challengers to your rank as Jinx's son and heir. I find you pretentious and rude, but perhaps those are characteristics that will be beneficial to Silvertip, once cultivated."
What the shaman wished was an apprentice, so that Jinx and her wolves would not be left wanting when he departed, but Ira, with his veneer of ambition and hotheadedness, would not be suitable for a role that demanded patience and quick learning.
Ira snuffled, sniffling once at the rank scent that he had, in a manner that the juvenile found slightly horrific, had became desensitized too. It lingered, even now, never fully going away no matter how used to it the Princeling was, but it wasn’t as ‘knock-you-on-your-feet’ as it had been the first couple of times Ira had been forced to endure it. The words that spilled forth from Lecter’s lips were …not what Ira had expected - though he had not been sure why the Shaman had called him there in the first place. Enmity …Lecter was tired of the enmity they shared towards one another? Ira spared the Gamma a suspicious look for a few seconds hindering on belief and disbelief. There was nothing that openly suggested that those words had been a lie, and yet Ira was dubious all the same; the consideration that they were sincere left Ira with the question what had changed Lecter’s mind? Lecter’s following words made a little bit of sense to Ira and the Princeling wondered if that was why Lecter was suddenly changing his mind about their tentative relationship. Because he was - as everyone did little bit by little bit - dying.
There was an aureole of light behind Ira's head; he looked quite the proverbial angel, though with a sneer and twisted heart. Lecter took amusement in this, but said nothing for some moments after the boy had finished. Would he challenge the younger of the pair for the rank alongside Jinx? A more spiteful visage of himself would have agreed, but Lecter instead carefully weighed the merit of such a decision. It would drive him into the public eye, divest him of the secrecy he had come to love. No, he was not suited for such a role; he was content to stand in Jinx's shadow.
"I am too aged for such things. I will not challenge you, Ira, but nor will I ignore her bidding if she asks me to rise beside her." He lifted his chin, icewater eyes searching the cold expression of the young man.
What could replace the anger and dislike that had sprung up weedlike between them? "Nothing," Lecter purred lowly. "I do not intend to force you to admire me, nor do I feel such for you." His voice hardened. "But do not underestimate me, boy. I have knowledge you will only dream of in the darkest nights, of all things, not simply mere herbs and plants."
"If you truly wish to learn, then I shall teach you. Otherwise, we turn our eyes to Jinx and bury this between us. I will grant you the respect she has, and you will do the same for me."
Lecter was silent then, awaiting Ira's reply.
Ira felt a small measure of surprise when Lecter admitted that he would not challenge Ira if Jinx decided to claim him as her heir — though she had never publicly considered Ira such he already considered himself her son even if Jinx, herself, didn’t — but nodded his understanding to the Shaman, for once, not sure what to say because there was not smart mouthed comeback to leer to Lecter. That was something that was happening too much lately and Ira wondered if he was losing his sharp edge; it was something he hoped he wasn’t losing as it had been his defense for so long. Was, more or less, his only defense. Without it Ira was just another little boy and frankly, the insolent creature hated the vulnerable little boy inside him, cocooned in pain and sorrow, caged in by fire, ice, and razor like wit that Ira had came to nurture and favor. Ira had no intentions of protesting if Jinx called to Lecter to lead with her. He was too young, first of all, and secondly, there was much for him to learn yet. Ira was not so arrogant and deluded as to not accept that.
Nothing, the Shaman had purred to Ira’s question. Nothing. The insolent Princeling was relieved to know that Lecter’s apparent left over feelings when the enmity was stripped away like a contract between two devils burned to ashes carried onto the wind mirrored Ira’s own. Nothing was a hollow thing, a strange concept to grasp but it was what Ira himself felt. Nothing. The more he thought the word, the less sense it began to make until the word almost didn’t exist at all, before he focused back on what Lecter was saying to him.
Brow furrowed as nostrils flared as Ira contemplated Lecter’s following offer. An offer. To teach Ira what the Shaman knew?
"Yes." His voice was soft, quiet; Lecter had pondered his own mortality a thousand times over and it was not a thing that perturbed him any longer. The deaths he had seen, the lives he himself had taken — it had hardened him to the inevitability that he would die.
Ira, for once, seemed to be listening, and Lecter mentally marked the day in his mind, mocking the younger wolf inwardly. He did not want to pass his craft off to the vulgar, crass youth, but he was Jinx's own, and as such, a fitting heir for the magick Lecter had long since held as lore. Icewater eyes narrowed. "It is an important thing I pass to you, Ira. I will not do it if there is a chance you will leave Jinx, or die without first passing this knowledge on. I cannot teach you all things. Some you must learn for yourself."
"You are fated for leadership, Ira, but you must learn valuable skills before you become such. You must know how to heal as well as how to kill, and killing is part of the art I shall teach you. I know it is your chosen craft."
Summarily, the man fell silent, awaiting Ira's response. He did not know how the boy would answer, or if he would at all. It was a great task he would lay across the gilded withers, a great trust. And he loathed to do it.