Ankyra Sound the thistle and the burr

@Ingram

on any certain day it was to be Lycaon avoiding social obligations. however, for the past few days, he'd been seeing less and less of his brother and was growing concerned over the boy's morose, stricken demeanor on the few occasions he did. as frustrated he was, still--a receptacle for unexpirable grudges--for Ingram's recent foray into affairs of the heart, fearing that perhaps the boy was concealing an infection from the lacerations raking his leg, Lycaon was not game for withholding diligence a minute longer. 
"ingle!" he yawped, roaming up the coast at a dogtrot with eyes peeled for his boon companion. what if he'd gone and died? how would he break the news to Wylla? she would definitely chum the waters with his guts if he brought tidings of their dearest bruuvers passing. ahhhhhhhh madre mia. "INGRAM!!!" 

luckily for lycaon, ingram wasn't dead yet -- at least not physically. maybe a little bit on the inside, like a smidgen -- ever since chusi had set her sails and departed for better, less frothy shores. the days following had left ingram dejected and more pathetic than his squishy-self normally was -- at this point, he was on a tachyon-after-lusca-rejection level of PERSONAL SADNESS.

a little dramatic, but if his haunches were hurting him, his feelings were smarting much more. he hadn't deliberately put distance between wylla and lycaon, it had just happened that way -- in a way that was wildly and disproportionately convenient for ingram, since he didn't want them to see him in his mopey state and ruthlessly hold it over his head. he had already had enough torment when his paramour had been rudely ejected from grimnismal with the prompt, hawkish attention a child would give a lego.

lycaon's calls did not rally his spirits and he tried to shuffle into a lope, his ears pinned as lycaon caught up to him. it was too much exercise for the fattest of the luschyon brood to do anyway, and he plopped into the ground with heavy breaths. "What!?"

after finally recovering the miserable slouch, Lycaon picked up his pace to a buoyant stot after his kin, tail sailing over his back like a white flag of truce. "hey!" he barked with major affront when his brother bid to retreat even further. away from him! what, was there no love lost between them now?! determined, the beta followed doggedly and made to nip at the inkswathed heels of Ingram until he was indulged.

he was, eventually, indulged... with an inflamed remark and hefty about-face like an exasperated fat man with an armful of mcdonalds would swing around after being followed around the block by a hungry stray dog. mmm. something was definitely amiss in the Vast Universe Of Ingram, but Lycaon was dim-witted at worst when it came to empathy and recoiled visibly at the melancholy, heartsore depiction of his brother. "jesus christ." he breathed with alarm, then straightened up while cuffing a lump of sand in Ingram's direction. "my man, theres enough salt on this beach. no need for that. what's with the face like a wet weekend? crab get ya by the junk again?"

the sand lycaon upturned in ingram's direction fell upon him like a shower of clod; ingram jerked his head away, feeling grains sliver through his fur. rude as hell. he looked up at his brother and tried to hide the grin that lycaon's wit had extracted -- but it was futile, and there danced across his somber features the lightest suggestion of a smile.

indeed, there was enough salt -- ingram pressed his head upon his paws and loosed a volley of a sigh into the world. "no, none of that." he said, feeling a wince inside of him at the imagination of a crab going anywhere near his nether-regions - no!!! OFF LIMITS!! "i just miss her." he admitted forlornly, his ears splayed as sand still peppered the top of his head.

despite his mightiest attempt to hide it, Ingram conceded the gravity of his expression with the faintest traces of a grin and his brother beamed back like a sunflare reflected off the lens of a magnifying glass tilted towards an ant's doom-laden parade (the ant being Ingram's eeyore-like sensibilities, of course). "a little better, but it could still use some work." he said with a bob of his snout. 

it wasn't long thereafter that he dropped like a sad sack of drowned kittens on the sand, wringing from his lungs the world's most immense, heartsick sigh ever. of course, Lycaon wasn't really aware that his brother had remained love-stricken by Chusi this entire goddamn time, much less that they had become an item and much much less that their itemness was split in twain by Wylla's smoldering edict after a vehement encounter with some tresspassers.

he didn't attend a lot of assemblies.

the paler of the twosome moved alongside his inverse as he confessed the wellspring of his sorrow--he just missed her. missed who? who was her? Lycaon blinked several times, running through a mental checklist of Individuals of Great Importance To Ingram. Wylla was here... Chusi, as far as he knew, was somewhere... who else was there to miss? ohh. Lycaon visibly came to a (false, fake news) realization and slid over to pat his brother plumb on the space between his limp ears, dusting off the remaining sand and simultaneously proving to be wildly incompetant when it came to commiserating. it had never been something Caiaphas shined at, and before this he'd done very little of the brotherly duty. "there, there..." he heartened. attempted to, anyway. "i'm sure Lusca--" cue fumbling noises. "err.. mother... will come back... i'm sure, some day..." he trailed off, in fact not knowing anything for sure except that he was feeling very ineffective at condoling his saddened sibling.

Lycaon flopped on his belly opposite to Ingram, resting his chin upon the cold sand and then inch-by-inch army crawled until his nose booped the splintered bowsprit of his brother's sunken battleship. really not getting it, i mean really not getting it, he then spoke perhaps the most obliviously cretinous words he could ever possibly speak. "on the bright side, you still have that girl to kiss on, huh? i bet she knows a thing or two about making a guy feel alive. eh?" he extended a paw to suggestively nudge his brother's cheek. he had good intentions, but having something and properly utizling that thing were clearly not exclusive.

he was, of course, also lying through gritted teeth--Lycaon knew damn well that Ingram's former girlfriend couldn't make a spider plant feel alive, and those thrived on neglect.

ingram hadn't thought to elucidate on who her was -- perhaps that was his own fault, and he watched his brother traipse around him with his eyes sunken by adolescent sorrow. not even the pat on his forehead (which was so inadequate in its consolation abilities it was nearly comedic) evinced much affect from the male, who remained as flat and listless as a burst jellyfish on the sunsmattered sand.

up until lusca was mentioned -- ingram's ears flew forward at the same pace a colt might burst from a gate; his brow sunk in a furrow of confusion and he squinted as he jerked his head back with a scoff. her? and then he softened, if only because he missed his mother a little too -- it was enough to overburden the pathetic dam of mental fortitude he had put up to prevent a breakdown, and he heaved another deep, soul-wrenched sigh as lycaon continued on, completely oblivious to ingram's torment.

he might have corrected lycaon on his erroneous assumption were it not for the words that tumbled out from his mouth mere seconds after. ingram snorted back a choked sob, sounding like a whale choking on its own blubber; "no! i don't have her." he half-blubbered, half-wailed, pressing his head between his forepaws as if to block out all thought of chusi and all thought of everything around him, including his brother who had unwittingly twisted the very knife wylla had unintentionally thrust through his heart.

damn, his family sucked. "she left me." he finally explained into the sand, his eyes covered by sandcrusted paws in an expression of grief.

a gauntlet of emotions ran across his face. first, confusion when Ingram’s condition grew inflamed and then slued out wildly of the breadth of expectation. in fact, he reacted with disdain at the suggestion he might be wistful for the comforts only a mother could provide. Lycaon wouldn’t have known anything about that, though, he had just assumed…

what came next was a look of surprise. revealed to him was that his brother was torn up over Chusi--and for what reason other then their abrupt estrangement. there it was, the indisputable root of his glumness. Lycaon became aware of a trembling on his blackened gums, but not in a manner summoned by empathy, oh no. he realized his lips were practically about to blurt “well what swell news!” when he accrued some last-minute wisdom from his conscience and concealed his snout behind his paw, thus concealing the unfurling of elation. after all, what a heinous brother he would be to emote such controversial sentiments...

well okay, he was, generally speaking, a heinous brother to begin with, but he sure didn’t want his only brother gleaning that notion. he didn’t have much in the way of kin; not enough to go alienating them willy-nilly in such ways, at any rate. plus, he loved the little cell of terrorists he called family, and he didn’t like seeing them hurt in any capacity.  he had the cognition to understand that his dear brother's heartbreak could not be leavened by humor.

”ohhh...” he said lamely as Ingram yowled with agony. "i'm sorry to hear that, dude." he added, ears forced limp with his expression straining to pattern itself upon pity protocol. a constipated grimace appeared, but it was an improvement upon the reflex to smile. 

to his luck, Ingram was busy burying his head in the sand like an ostrich and probably hadn’t detected the fluctuations in Lyc's colorful spectrum of emotion. the nigthshaded boy shrouded his face, deep in denial of his reality. meanwhile, Lycaon implored eye contact from the viridescent gaze that was being eclipsed by inky shanks, angling his head so he could peer through the spaces between Ingram’s toes. ”it’ll be okaaaay….” he said airily, trying to pry his brother’s paws gently apart to bring him out of self-imposed exile, coaxing him with a gentle: ”wanna tell me what happened, buddy?” .

god damn it. how could he tactfully confide that he thought his ex-girlfriend was a bowl of ass soup and that he was better off now that she’d snatched his spoon?

i fudging love lycaon LMAO

it might have been fortuitous that ingram's face was buried in fistful of limb -- for he was unaware of the intemperate expressions that swept across his brother's muzzle with the consistency of a march shower - elation one moment, vexation the next. ingram hunched his shoulders down, his muzzle clutched by his inky limbs. despite lycaon's best attempts at playing mama goose, he was unmoved from his state of hysteria -- and steadfast as a fat seal claiming her sunspot, refused to budge despite his brother's prying.

at one point he opened his eyes and caught the wide chestnut stare of his brother's, and quickly looked away. lycaon's attempts to soothe him had as much balming powers as a caustic agent -- and he only dug his heels further in the sand as he considered how wretched and alone he felt. "no!" he blubbered into his folded paws at his brother's insistent question -- no he did not want to relive the shame and sadness that hounded him worse than a tick on a cur.

he must have been a glorious sight to behold, all shaken and stiff-furred -- a heap of teenage emotional angst and brewing isolation. he finally relented his mulish stand, obliging lycaon simply because if he didn't tell him, he'd have no one to bitch to later: "we were at the borders and there were some wolves that shouldn't be there.. and she.. she yelled at us as we chased them off and then wylla threw her out and she left." he had tried, for his brother's sake, for brevity -- and it was the simplest explanation he could offer before another sad sigh plagued his body.

no! he felt the shoulder-bruising recoil of Ingram's refusal rebuff him like it was loaded with buckshot. Lycaon looked somewhat wounded, then battened down the hatches of brotherly intregrity with a huff and scrunched eyes, again prying at the sable paws that curtained Ingram's sniffly face. "no secrets!" no capes!

at last he unfolded like a sadly creased origami swan and the beta scooted back a tad, ears standing to attention on his head with anticipation, receptive to the candor of Ingram's sorrows. Lycaon listened with polite and well-hidden glee as his brother recapped what had transpired between Chusi and himself, but drawn in his mind was only a feeble echo of the circumstances--detail was held back with the river. feeling deprived, the palefurred wolf made frustrated slaps at the rewind button. "back up, back... who yelled at you? girlfriend? then she helped you chase them off? heh?" confusion swam across his features in balletic butterfly strokes. "why did Wylla throw her out, or did she leave? why'd she break up with you? what?"

u ingrams 300th ooo

admittedly, ingram's explanation left a lot wanting. for one, it was painfully clipped, for two, he had left some details out -- details which, as it turned out, lent context to the entire situation. he sighed and relented, allowing lycaon's prying to pull back his tense arms and reveal his dark face. he kept his muzzle in the sand and snuffed sadly, watching as his soft exhale stirred the sand beneath his nostrils.

he tried again, this time slowly -- as much as he tried to drain the emotion from his voice, his words were still perilous with sadness: "okay. i was walking along when i saw wylla - there were some wolves at the border, and she looked like she was in trouble." he cast his doleful expression upwards for a moment, meeting the soft brown of lycaon's own before he looked away. "we tried to chase them out, and chusi was there and she yelled at wylla.. which... did not go over well." he sighed again, flexing his paw into the sand and observing the divots each imprint left. "and... wylla told her to leave... so... she did."

ooOooh mon plaisir madame

Lycaon's tail beat sand dervishes into the air when his prying saw success and Ingram conceded to his brother's audience for the full explanation for his upsetti spagetti. slowly the boy came out of his shell and sighed, plaintively setting to the task of adding flesh to the bones of his previous reccounting of events. 

maintaining quietude for the duration of his brother's retrospection, only offering a stir of his eyebrows when Ingram gazed up at him morosely, Lycaon listened. some strange wolves had accosted their sister at the border, was what he had construed so far. inwardly, this caused his nerves to ravel--where'd he, the beta, been during this? not protecting his sister, their alpha, but most importantly his sister, like he was supposed to--that's where. goddamn it. the onus was as much on him as it was on Chusi that this had all transpired. 

of course, the ending would have been decidedly the same. idly drawing impressions in the sand, Ingram finished explaining the issue that had culminated in the breakdown of his relationship; Chusi, that's right, that had been the lil homewrecka's name... had made the unwise decision to yell at Wylla, and their fierce sister clearly hadn't liked that shit at all--enough to cast the girl out on her ass. "why was Chusi yelling though?" he asked curiously, unsure as to what had worked his ex-gf up enough that she would brazenly try to exert authority over Wylla in such a manner.

the pale brother sank to his belly and settled on his elbows, criss-crossing his paws. "girls can be the worst." he sighed, looking out over the sea with a squint. "boys kinda suck too--not us, of course, we're stunning--but other ones. like that one guy that gave me this--" he curled his lip away from the canine that had been chipped by one of Drageda's scapegraces, a small bit of laughter escaping him as he recalled the brawl.

his eyes made their way back to Ingram's face which was still etched in sadness, and his own expression transformed into one of genuine contriteness. "sorry. actually, i've sucked a lot recently." he murmured.

as sad as he was, he couldn't help the impulse to nip briefly at lycaon's arm as he sunk into the sand alongside him. sure, life sucked -- this sucked -- but having lycaon as his buoy and barrier from all of life's punches... well, ingram was glad for it. he was still forlorn -- still miserable -- but having an outlet for his feelings in the form of discourse was enough that he felt a weight shift from his tightened chest.

why was chusi yelling? ingram scrunched his brow to recall, and then answered: "oh.. those wolves were her friends, i think. she called us lunatics." the end of his sentence hung in an amused wheeze, and he collapsed to his side with his skull resting against lycaon's elbow. lycaon's admission that girls were the worst and that they, the two luschyon boys, were god's gift to them, caused ingram to stifle a smile. he looked up at lycaon's crinkled muzzle, studying the chip in his impressive tooth. it was a fierce war-wound, and he inspected it with mock solemnity. indeed, a most grave injury.

the contrition that passed over lycaon's countenance shortly after stirred a semblance of worry in ingram, and he abruptly shifted upright with sand decking half of his body and face. "what do you mean?" he pressed, squinching with brotherly skepticism.