The Sentinels they picked up our trail

back to the place he could not leave behind, velen faced the destroyed forest, and this time he stepped into its embrace. the ground seemed to thrill beneath his paws, sending a glissade of riotous sensation through the boy that would have caused velen to stumble, had he attempted to move forward.
encased in the shadows cast by the fallen giants, evening shadows falling, velen closed his eyes and allowed himself the small amusement of attempting to summon @Ford with nothing more than his mind. if there was indeed magick here, then it ran in his veins — there was no reason why the boy could not seek to harness it now, even if he did not yet truly believe in his mother's tales.

hi i'm the worst but i love you dearly <3

Something called him to the woods, and he followed without questioning what it could have been that had summoned him there. The length of his limbs made quick work of the beach and then the trees that rested in the bay. Before long, he was peering through what remained of the sentinels and the life that his mother had left behind when she had followed Skellige to the islands.

Ahead, a familiar figure drew his attention. He did not need to seek permission to approach his brother, and so he simply lumbered forward until he had closed the distance between them. There, he offered a nudge of his muzzle against the chestnut fur of his sibling's shoulder. His mismatched gaze searched the features of Velen for a sign of what was traveling through the stoic man's mind.

you are NOT and i love you too <3

he had not been expecting to bring his brother, but ford's heavy tread sounded soon thereafter, followed by a nudge. velen opened his eyes, offering a low rumble of welcome. "i was thinking about our mother," he murmured in answer to ford's unspoken question.
deirdre — velen did not think she would ever return to donnelaith, even to walk a last time among the downed boles of what had once been great trees. likewise, the mayfair-cairn did not believe he would see his mother again. at least in this life.
it was not grief that tempered him now, merely a deep solemnity. he fell silent, wondering if ford would answer or simply stand close in knowingness.

<33

As soon as his brother mentioned her, the warhound turned his head to the wood and breathed a soft sigh of understanding. It was rare that he made it through an entire day without his mind drifting back to the pale coat and green eyes of the woman who had birthed them. Most days, he thought of her with envy. There was nothing that he wouldn't have given to have been more like her. Instead, he carried the same indomitable aura as their tyrant of a father. Ford glanced toward Velen and latched his mismatched gaze to his brother's features. He wondered just how much of their mother ran through his veins.

“I think of her often,” he admitted in a soft and smoky voice. It was as though he was sharing something that he had locked away in his soul. “Why do you think she left this place?” the titan then inquired. Surely, if they were to have asked Deirdre... she would have spoken of love and the way of the world. She always had a fanciful answer for everything they'd ever inquired. Ford wanted to know the truth behind it all, though.

had he commanded ford to come? if there was magick within velen, did it not also exist in ford and in rannveig? in their sisters? he shook it from his mind to focus on what the leviathan at his side had rumbled. his brother was not a beast of many words, nor of emotion; velen knew the effort it cost ford to be so open, and was grateful.
turning his chestnut gaze upon the ruined world, the boy breathed the old scent of ash and let his shoulders curve. "because lasher was her last tie here. when he died, she was free to go with our father." the way deirdre spoke of donnelaith, velen knew she would have never left had not the servant to the witches met his end.

Lasher...

The name of the sage druid caused the hackles along the wraith's back to lift just slightly. His mismatched gaze turned away from his brother for a moment and searched through the charred forest for a sign that the dark man had ever truly been there. Ford had been named after the man. Their mother had loved him so very much, that she had hoped there would be pieces of him that would have been passed on into her children. From her stories, the titan felt almost as though the offering of her father's name had been wasted on him. Then again, there was no accounting for sentiment.

“When the forest is fuller – when life returns to this land... would you wish to lead the forest, Velen?” the warhound inquired carefully. His gaze turned toward the chestnut coloration of his sibling and he imagined the rich colors of his sibling's frame melding with the wild wood. Their intentions had always been to claim the bay and then the forest, but Ford had never found the strength to inquire whether or not Velen would like to take one for himself.

the name of the man stirred ford, and velen cast a sideways glance at his titanic brother lay his intelligent eyes upon the forest. he almost wished to ask what it was that the other saw, what he thought, but it came quickly and soon enough.
the ceto blinked, a muscle in his jaw tensing with the surprise of ford's question. having never considered himself leadership, velen had thus not fantasized about his own lands. dalia touched the corners of his awareness, her smile glimmering from where the girl never quite left his mind. perhaps she would come with him. perhaps —
"yes, ford" velen murmured softly, turning the burnished gold of his gaze upon his brother. "thank you." he was truly humbled in this moment, struck into silence by the great wolf's regard of him. the iron-eyed creature had gathered to him the bulk of their father's genes; he was not only striking, he was admirable on all fronts.

Ford did not understand how long it would take for the woodland to return to the way it had been before the fire. Still, he knew that there were signs of life hidden beneath the layer of snow and ash. In time, the sentinels would thrive again. More than anything, the warhound wanted for his brother to know that it was his destiny to lead there. None of the others could have done it, even if they had wanted it more than Velen. That was partly why it was such a good plan. The inky titan could not see any of the others with the same obsessive desires as the man he stood beside. They were good and they were still family, but they did not strive for the same things. It made it easy to ask Velen.

“You need not thank me,” the warhound remarked with a smoky chuckle. Then, he shook his head and turned his attention toward his sibling with a knowing expression. The cold calculation of his gaze was latched tightly to the mahogany coloration of Velen's eyes. “It will take time, but I should hope that we will have numbers enough to fill both the bay and the wood by the time we are intended to claim it,” he then added with a confident nod. Perhaps they would be fortunate enough to see the first buds of life spring forth when spring fell through to their lands.

velen too did not know if the place once called donnelaith would thrive again. even if it did not, the prospect of leading his wolves like ghosts among the ashes pleased him immensely. and had he known the most dashing of the three brothers would cavort with another direct mayfair, and infuse their line with lasher's blood again, velen would have been dazzled.
as it was, the ceto was merely humbled. "i believe we will," and velen's voice was firm. he would gather the numbers if he must go out into the world and claim them himself, as ford had done with so many already. it was the way of their clan: persuasion, promise, adaptation. velen could expect no less of himself, and lifted his head proudly alongside ford's own.

Belief would carry them a great deal of the way to their end goal. It was their belief in each other and their mission that had closed their hand on the bay. It would be that very same spirit that would allow them to claim the woods. Ford did not doubt that Velen would lead a good group there, and there would be a chance that they would achieve what their father could not. It was a powerful feeling to find settled in the pit of his stomach. It took a great deal of strength not to dwell on.
 
“What would you call it?” the titan asked of his chestnut-coated sibling. Though the woods were not much more than charred tree trunks and ashen earth, surely there was a name in there that would perfectly fit how important the land really was. It would only make sense that Velen was able to name it. Ford merely wanted to know where his brother’s sentiments rested.

velen was not expecting ford's next question, for there was a great weight to a name, especially to rename a place already embedded in their lore and bloodline. and so for a long series of moments, the boy was silent, letting his eyes rove over the greyed details of the place where his mother had been born.
"ashenvale," he decided with a low reverence to his voice. the ash of the stricken redwoods were the charnel house for their grandfather, but what was once donnelaith still held the promise of greenery, the hope of new life.

fade and have a new one? <3

“A good name,” Ford offered to his brother with a solemn nod of his head.
 
He had fretted over what he might call their claim once they had gathered the numbers and started marking the bay. The titan had worked his mind late into the night, on countless evenings. He had turned over thoughts that seemed both fitting and extraordinary. It seemed that Velen had managed to find a name in a matter of moments. This should not have been shocking to Ford; he knew how quick his brother was. The chestnut male had never been lacking when it came to his intellect.
 
“Mother would be proud,” the titan then offered with a small dipping of his head. He thought of the pale features of Deirdre and breathed in the ashen scents of the forest. “Let’s see if we can find any of the places she spoke of,” the warhound then offered with a swinging motion of his head.