Northstar Vale the patron saint of disconnection

@Siqsa

He had departed from the Northeastern part of Teekon Wilds with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. His mind had never resettled after the incident with the skull. Granted he had somehow stayed sober. Maybe it was because of all the new snow or maybe it was because he fretted that herbs might bring back the image of the skull.

A shiver ran down his spine at the thought, his small thin frame gave a rattled shake to rid himself of the mental image. It was over. He just had to keep reminding himself that.

When he looked around, he couldn't help but think how everything still looked the same as where he had been running from. Athris had to keep moving if he wished to keep sane.

With nothing more than a scant and scoured pride, Siqsa found himself more irritable than anything. Fuck a ‘family’. But he wasn’t mad at Minori, not in the slightest. In fact, she seemed like the sanest one here. No, the Demon was irritated with the deception of tightly woven family that were just so happy go lucky that they hadn’t told him there were such things as challenges for rank, here. Oh and of course Minori won; he was caught with his pants down. He was too busy softening up and trying to ‘Adapt’ into a better ‘family member’, trying to be nice and shit.

Like, are we gonna be busy worrying about challenges for rank when there was just a goddamn bear attack, apparently? Are we gonna be fighting for rank when you don’t even know who the goddamn hell youre fighting against??! Because you weren’t introduced, no, because then you’d develope some kind of kinship. But with Ruenna, he had assumed the little lithe silver was a spy, for some goofy paranoid reason. 

But had he assumed any any different with Minori? He had to learn her name in the midst of him getting his ass beat by her, and that was embarrassing enough as it was. 

Heated from the memory, the limping Rogue walked across the current of abrasive winds, the chill of the oncoming winter breaking and over freezing the scabs he had acquired from his recent fight, ebony blue fur crusted in several places from the blood’a trails through it. Garnet gems downcast as he wallowed in fury.

He was best  left alone, for this moment in time. But the times where be needed solace, there was none. 

Stale, dried blood reached his nose on the cold breeze. It did not smell of something that could be a meal though. It caused worry to build up within him. He softly padded on light paws towards the direction of the scent. Athris soon realized that that had not been his best decision. A large male with a swarthy coat and fiery eyes. He had been the one to harbor the bloody scent. If the creature was in a fighting mood, Athris would surely be beaten with one swift move. So he tried to swallow the lump that had appeared in his throat and focus on what good this meeting could bring.

Do you need a healer? His voice wavered slightly but Athris stayed rooted to his spot, position neutral but teetered on submissive. Perhaps he was not the best and his supplies of what to work with in these conditions was certainly limited but...well, maybe if he offered to help the beast wouldn't eat him.

”I need a new life,” he responded grumpily to the disconnected voice of an omnipresent form. He wasn’t even bothered with trying to find out who the soul was who tried to inquire of his health; he was better off pretending it was just a voice in his head. “not that it matters, seeing how I can’t just give mine up, or trade it for a new one. Or even start over, since it’s just too much to fucking ask.“

Turning an emberous ruby gaze lowly over his thick forelimb, he bitterly responded to the space between this voice’s silence and his own ending. “For family, peace, and a bunch of other useless shit they try to mold you into before they get in your ass for being different. For standing up for yourself. What even are ranks, anymore? What the fuck happened to tradition? Or like, clarity? Is understanding too much to ask for? Why is there no fucking list for this petty shit somewhere in my head already?“ Getting worked up as usual, his passion was misplaced. And he coughed, his ribs sore and hurting as he headed forward more questions, accusations at entities he thought he originally wasn’t mad at.

Athris silently settled on his rear when it became clear this male wasn't going to strike him down. In fact, the young male was fairly certain he hadn't even been spotted yet. Which worked just fine for him. He listened to the male violent questions with ease.

All things can be born new. He whispered into the air in a gentle voice. But let out your frustrations, don't hold them in any more. Despite his calm and soothing tone, Athris was having too much fun being some sort of counselor for this stranger. He held power with his words which was a comforting thought for someone so physically weak.

Impressionable at weakest, the fool nodded his head to this strange and somehow invisible deity, backwards scruff a cape’s brim around his broad but bloody shoulders.

“But even letting them out doesn’t make them go away,“ the bastard whimpered to the world. The truth scalded across his tongue, and the whimper soldered across his swollen ear. “I only know revenge, and failure. Only victory, and satisfaction. I’m a simple beast, but no one seems to understand me. I scream to the damned gods, but they do not hear me.”

He felt alone, and no one but this god here and now knew of his sorrows. His troubles were a cross he gave no one but himself charge over. “It’s a terrible way to live life, but I live it. And I get shat on by everyone ever crossed. My conversations end in either a fight, or frightening someone off. There’s really a way to find some sort of renewal for the life of the Damned?” 

Oh but it helps, even if you don't know it. He informed in his airy tones. It was truth. Athris had kept all of his woes buried inside of himself and look at what sort of mess it made at such a young age. Perhaps he could become a savior. If not for everyone then at least for this one bloodied wolf.

His tanned ears pushed forward, he took in every word that the beast spoke. There is. He informed and his head nodded, even if the male wouldn't see it. Shed your past, take on a new identity as a rebirth. Learn the ways of new. It is no easy task but you...you can do it. He whispered as he watched the ebony beast. He had to wonder if any of his advice was truly seeping in or if this would only be for entertainment purposes.

How does one simply repulse against everything they had been molded by? How can a soul be saved if you simply sold off all the sins? It was a makeshift heave of retreating. “That’s-   That’s impossible!“ he narrated. Brick by brick, walls closed in on him at the thought of such a feat. He couldn’t simply give up his past as though it had no effect on him; his rogue ways had kept him safe all these months, these past 2 years filled with turmoils made easy from his manipulative ways.

“You speak of it as though it’s as easy as a blink. Others know of me; how can I just up and change?” The pack saw him as weird and aggressive enough, already...what would they think had he just upped and smiled as some happy go lucky mutt?