Whitewater Gorge A Prince Without A Kingdom

@Vaati

Arrille had trailed away from Neverwinter forest, thinking about what he had left. He had a pack, a kingdom. He was a prince, son of the alpha. Both of those titles were gone, out of the boy's reach now. He could no longer call himself a prince. And both of his parents, they had up and left him alone, with Maude. Someone he barely knew.

He looked down into the gorge, the running water. The sound of the running water was somewhat calming, and it allowed him to think. He laid on his stomach, his head hanging over the edge.

OMG THEY'RE BROTHERS. WELL THIS IS GONNA GET INTERESTING XD

He follows the river north this time, abandoning the shadows in favour of what lies beyond. Perhaps it is the frustration that Astrid still exists as their leader, and that his uncle has failed to step up to the plate. But perhaps it is also the fact that Vaati still does not have the influential sway to dethrone her, but he will. It is only a matter of time before he reaches full potential; in body and in mind. Combined with the genes of Kjalarr, the muscle, and Potema, the mind, there will be little that stands in his way. But he is not a fool, he is only mortal; all mortals can be killed. It is this fact that drives him to accomplish as much as he can in as little time as possible. Travelling to what lay beyond the confines of the dark woods identifies as just that, and in time, he plans to map every inch of the land his family so rarely aspires to see. He is a prince of the darkness, the eventual king of the dark woods, and he will not sit idle as the world evolves around him.

Vaati stops along the shore of the river, bending down once to drink from its well. It is then in the reflection of the water does he glimpse the brief flicker of silver, mirrored to the behind that stands before him. In a split second does the thought come to mind; father, and he lifts his head unapprehensive to face a boy. His brows furrow, distaste seeping into his mouth at the mere idea of his stupidity. Kjalarr had left him at the top of the Spire, alone. It gave him the instant hesitance to stick around the other boy, a boy who was unmistakable in resemblance to the Viking; perhaps, even his son. Arrille. The other child Vaati had been mistaken for. Shaking his snout from the water, he stands to full size, instinctively puffing out his chest to appear bigger than the other, and perhaps he was. Similar eyes charged accusingly upon the other, silently demanding to know why he stood so close, and what e wanted.

Arrille did not notice the other until they bent down to drink. For a moment, all Arrille saw was a glimpse of white fur like his own, and believed it to be his father. 

"Fath-" He stopped himself halfway, seeing it was someone close to his own age. Who looked...very much like himself. It was almost as if the river was across from him, not at his feet. "Who..." The other looked rather accusingly over at him. And he could not understand why. "Who are you...and why do you look like me?" It was really weirding the boy out, seeing this doppleganger. He only knew of his stillborn sisters. He began to think, what if there was more his parents had not told him? Did they even know of this other boy?

Perhaps he ought to be more shocked, taken aback by the revelation that this truly is his half-brother; Arrille's words confirm it. But he is not, not in the sense that would arouse any feeling of excitement.  He has siblings, true siblings, he does not need any more challenging him for a role that is already his.vBut Arrille himself seems to take it in strides, not yet realizing the connection the face but speculation with an astounded tone Vaati did not experience. "Why do you think?" He snorts, eyeing the other boy with a condescending amusement. It did not take much brainpower to form conclusions based on the evidence given, however, Arrille did not possess all the pieces of the puzzle to form such conclusions. Vaati did. "You are Arrille, he mistook me for you once," The memory put a bittersweet taste in his mouth; perhaps Arrille had also been the reason Kjalarr had left him, stranded. The theory surely was plausible, the man had been looking for the boy upon his discovery of Vaati's existence. Who was to say the mere concept of Vaati was quickly traded in for the assurance of another son? His mind wanders to more sinister aspects, primarily, what this newfound sibling could eventually become. A liability. Kjalarr could not know that he wandered so close to the dark woods, and Arrille could not know where their father resided. It was a matter of personal assurance, that Vaati himself would not be challenged for the title of Kjalarr's son. He had already been challenged for the inheritance of the Dark Woods by outsiders posing for something they had no right to, and that was exactly what he feared about his mirrored clone.

There was another aspect to his hesitance. Vaati would not risk sending the northerner away once more to seek out the other son, he did not want to. Perhaps even this dull burning jealousy would push him to bring Kjalarr news of his other son's untimely death. Perhaps he would do it himself. He bends down to drink once more, silently eyeing the other in the reflection of the river, anticipating questions and small talk he was not interested in. Perhaps to simply be on his way was a more convenient option for the both of them before Vaati's own temper got the better of the situation. However, there was a tug at the back of his mind that yearned to know what would come of this encounter, the possibilities, both sinister and welcoming.

Arrille was confused by what exactly this boy was talking about. But as soon as he spoke Arrille's name, it all came rushing straight at him like a tornado. He had been told he had no siblings. At least, that's what he believed. Had he been lied to again? No, Maude wouldn't lie to him like that. Arrille would have certainly known. And if this wolf had been mistaken to be Arrille by-

"Wait! How do you know my name? And you met my father? Where...where is he? I've been looking for him, I want to...I want to bring him back home." He needed to bring him back home. it was all he wanted. Although, he had this feeling about this wolf, something that was off putting by how he spoke to him.

He does Arrille blubbers out more questions he cannot answer in full, jumping from one topic to the next whilst demanding Vaati answer. But Vaati is not one to oblige the needs of others so easily, he never has been, and especially when he does not see an advantage in return. Why would he? Kjalarr has made his home in Blackfeather Woods, which has made his mother more noticeably happy than she was before. There was nothing he would do to threaten that, and he owes Arrille nothing. They may be brothers by blood, but Vaati has his own siblings, his own life, and Kjalarr needn't know he had ever met the other boy. And so, he tells a little white lie, lifting his head mournfully though the emotions he feels are anything other than. "He's dead," Vaati, ironically, deadpans — perhaps the biggest lie he will ever tell but surely not the most important. The reunion between father and son is one he has reserved strictly for himself and the Northerner, he cares little for the feelings of this other child or the consequences of his words. He knows there is no chance he will ever see this boy again, and no certainty Kjalarr will ever know what occurred this day.  It is fail-proof, and he knows it, perhaps that is why the smug undertone of his words can still be heard present, only to the keenest ear. 

Arrille waited for the answer he wanted. In fact, inside he was excited. That he would finally find his father again. He would tell Maude, and they could go back home. He waited for the words to be spoken, of where his father was...and apparently, it was not somewhere the boy would be reaching any time soon.

He felt a wave of dizziness. Not only had his father left, and not come back. But he was dead as well. Whether or not Arrille even had reason to believe these words, he chose to believe them anyway. His heart chose to, and it ached. 

"What....a-are you sure? Are you s-sure he's dead?!" he stammered, and then his mind went elsewhere. "Were you there...did he...did he ever mention me before...before..." Arrille just wanted to know if his father had ever truly loved him. If he had bothered to mention his name, besides when he called his name upon seeing this wolf. "How did you know him?" he added, suddenly curious as to why this wolf and his father had met at all.

The other questions his legitimacy, and rightfully so. "I was sure it was him that slipped and fell down the Spire, or it could have been a random stranger who coincidently looked very similar to me and carried the name Kjalarr," He shrugs, perhaps too nonchalantly, but truthful enough. The part about the Spire had been partially factual; they had gone up together but none had fallen off. Vaati had simply been left there for what he had assumed was Arrille, but as the other boy continues, he is unsure if Kjalarr had ever found the other son. "No," He replies curtly response to the other's question of if Kjalarr had ever spoken of him before his untimely death.

Vaati observes silently after saying so, leaving a few moments in between before he moves on to the next point of interest casually. "Well, I suppose it is my mother who truly knew him," How his mother had come across the Northerner is a mystery to him, and he doesn't particularly care to know. He doubts there is more to their story than a one-night stand, and that thought alone creates a rise of bile in the back of his throat; he finds it very unlikely that his mother even knows much about the man either. Vaati shrugs, "I didn't know him at all," He still doesn't, even as Kjalarr resides within the dark woods, he knows nothing of him or why he had come to his home in the first place.

Arrille shook his head, he couldn't believe it. Yet, he did. He believed every word. This other wolf had even spoken his name. "No...no, he would have mentioned me...He should have mentioned!" The young boy couldn't handle the news. With tears starting to stram down his face, he turned back the way he came, not looking back and ran. Crying about how his father had died, and not once having mentioned Arrille, except in the mistaken identity of someone who looked like him.

It was unexpected, that the other would burst into tears and run back in the direction that he came, but entertaining nonetheless. Vaati knows he should feel a certain amount of guilt, but he doesn't. Spreading false information and faking his own father's death is something that would usually play on one's own conscience, but he knows very well that the likelihood of this ever being traced back to him is slim to none. Once Arrille has completely disappeared from view, he shrugs, and continues on his way, loping casually down the river as if nothing had ever happened.