Ankyra Sound imma break that birdy's neck

The world was his oyster. He was built big and strong, passionate, funny, well-trained. . . Why should he not have it all his own way? But he'd gotten complacent. He had let myriad opportunities slip by. Now he found himself far from home, unhappy, stuck between a rock and a hard place.

He had forgotten that he was the goddamn master of his own goddamn fate.

And he could make things better for his children, too.

All the great qualities listed above would only aid him in this noble endeavor. However, there was one thing he had always lacked that he would need in order to make it work: patience. Patience, patience. His Achilles' heel. To sit and wait. . .that was torture. But there'd be some sitting and waiting, probably a lot of it, before he could enjoy the fruits of his labor.

He left shortly after his conversation with the pups, leaving no word but with them. Should he die, he would simply vanish, his fate unknown. But he didn't mean to die. He meant to make things right. He plotted each step as he traveled down the mountains, across the flatlands, over the moors.

He felt the sting of saltwater in his nostrils and felt as if he could breathe for the first time in weeks.

Verx pulled to a halt at the edge of the forest and gave a lilting howl for whomever led this pack, whether it be Blackhead or some other fucker. Called, and then lowered his head, doing his best to look contrite, broken. The mass of scar tissue on his neck, only barely healed, definitely helped make him seem quite piteous.

Well, pity away, motherfuckers.

illidan heard the call from over the blackpine and his head turned toward it with interest. it was a voice that he was not familiar with, but without his sights set on the creature at their borders, he had no idea who might have been summoning leadership to the edge of their claim. on lengthy limbs, he traveled across their stretch of beach and through the towering stone on either side of their entrance. it was not until he drew closer that he saw who was there, and he felt his breath catch in the back of his throat.

the dark-hooded ghost approached with a careful posture. his gaze was wary, but the hawkish glow of his yellow gaze gave him an expression of curiosity. it had been some time since he had seen any of the cliff wolves, and none of them so close to their borders. still, there seemed to be something of a desolate aura to the dark male who stood there. as much as he wished he could react harshly, much of the fight had died inside of him.

“wouldn't expect to see you here,” illidan remarked in a gravelly tone. he drew his crown upward and canted it to the left just slightly. “are you looking for someone?” or something? the haunted expression on the young man's face did not speak of any anger that might have boiled beneath his flesh. instead, he carefully carried the weight of an entire world on his shoulders. perhaps they were both to be pitied.

caiaphas did not recognize the howl, but she recognized the scent of the fucker that had nearly ripped her neck clean from her body. lifting her muzzle, the siren drank in the scent of what was a very unexpected surprise.

nearing vercingetorix, caiaphas could not help the simmer of satisfaction that edged her hawkish eyes; she had made him look that way. "you look pathetic." the siren offered, coming to stand next to illidan. a knowing smirk grew across her ugly muzzle. she recalled vercingetorix was a man fond of cheeky diatribe -- surely he was not so pathetic to refuse engaging in an old, much enjoyed past-time?

but much as caiaphas wished to barter cutting riposte with an 'old friend', there was a more pressing matter at hand. her enemy, one she'd much rather see dead, was edging far to close to her home for comfort. settling vercingetorix with a cold stare, caiaphas waited for him to answer her son's query. her gaze cut across his face in a studying stare, hoping to detect any sort of malign trick or deception if it existed

She obviously had a kid, for it wasn't her that came at first but a male version, younger, broader. He shook his head in silent response, opening his mouth to speak--and then she came.

And of course, she couldn't keep her fucking opinion to herself.

Thanks, Verx rasped dryly. I'm going for the pity fuck. At the question, then, he gave a shrug and a sigh, shifting his weight. Looking for all the world like a man ran over by a truck and hung out to dry.

Drageda's gone, as you probably know, he said. Congratulations, you won. Hope you're happy. I had business to take care of elsewhere, so I didn't go with them, which I guess makes me a 'traitor.' So that's cool. His voice was wearing out, slowly but surely. Soon, he'd barely be audible--but he pushed on anyway.

He gave Blackhead a gimlet stare. I probably hate you more than anyone else in the world, but I respect the fuck out of you. You almost killed me, after all. That's quite the feat. Verx cleared his throat hard, a terrible, hacking sound. So if I don't get to serve a Heda, I'd rather just serve you, instead.

the banter between them was almost like friends. illidan's head turned from his mother to the dark male at their borders with a mask of confusion that had come close to permanently etching onto his dark features. he wasn't sure if their chat was good or if they were sizing each other up. it seemed, though, that the former drageda wolf was something of a sweet-talker in the sense that he did not wish to beat around the bush. his vocalized respect for caiaphas was the most surprising statement that had been offered, but the ghost did not pull from it and he did not comment on it directly.

“none of your pack mates were there to help you?” his question seemed to slip without any control. he had not wanted to ask that. he hadn't wanted to bring up the fall of the cliff-side pack, but his mind had conjured the query without much halt or reason. illidan had imagined them to be an immovable army – diligent in their protection of their land and each other. he had hated them, but he had not thought that they would simply disperse without their family...

glancing toward his mother, illidan felt an overwhelming sense of dread. he did not want to disappoint her, but he was not so skilled in the art of tactful shit-talking. he still did not know if they spoke words of hatred at each other, or if there was truly a modicum of respect between the two beasts of the water. he darted his gaze back to the looming male with a clenched jaw. “won't your hatred cloud your mind? or do you believe you can truly serve beneath the pack you fought in war?”

as dejected as drageda's once-cheka looked, he still had some spark to him. he was able to rapidly fire back some of that old wit, though it garnered absolutely nothing from caiaphas. instead of a laugh (which it might have deserved) caiaphas simply stared in return.

if looks could kill, she would have gunned him down. he was defenseless, and that meant nothing to the harpy. she was not a woman to question her own convictions, and if illidan was not here...

she tore her austere gaze from vercingetorix only to glance at illidan once vercingetorix's speech completed. catching the confusion on illidan's features, her gaze briefly softened before turning back to vercingetorix. it had been a moving, rousing speech -- something about heda, something about her -- if caiaphas was a narcissistic creature, she would have fallen easily for such flattery.

she was not narcissistic. so, she remained unaffected. if anything, vercingetorix's laid-bare commitment made her even more distrustful and it registered plainly across her sharp features. yet caiaphas looked to her son.  illidan had just as much a say about vercingetorix's fate as she (if not more, for he was beta, and even if he was not, caiaphas valued the opinion of all of her children immensely).

she left the questioning for illidan. in a matter of seconds, he had uttered the query that rested on the tip of her tongue anyway -- while it was packaged differently, the underlying tone was easily read: in what world could we possibly trust you?

He turned his gaze to the young man. It was complicated, he said cryptically, leaving it at that. If they wanted to hear the tale of Vercingetorix, Lord of the Fuckboys and how he couldn't keep it in his pants, that was on them. For now, he tried to remain focused on the business at hand.

Like those next two questions. Now those, he could answer.

Hold up, he said, shaking his head. I hate her, Verx clarified, canting his nose toward Blackhead, but not Rusalka. The rest of y'all haven't done shit to me. I fought against you because my pack fought against you. Now that Drageda's gone, what reason would I have to hate this pack?

There were other wolves, other things, he hated much more. Above all, though, he suppose he hated circumstance.

Once more, he shrugged. If you don't want me, that's cool, he added breezily. I'm a pretty good warrior, good to have on your side. But if you can't see past the pack I used to serve then I can just be on my merry way.

’it was complicated…’
 
all things were. drageda did not have the cornerstone on complicated situations. regardless of this thought, illidan allowed the cryptic words to pass them by with a solemn nod of his head. his mother had not said a word since her cold quip. occasionally, he would glance toward her with some hint of concern on his features before he would right his vision back to the dark man and take in exactly what was happening at the edge of their claim.
 
he wanted to turn the man away merely because of where he had come from. it would have given him a perverse satisfaction to see the brute cast aside from even his enemy’s gate. instead, there was a portion of the ghost that felt for this beast of the cliffs. he did not like it, but it was there, nonetheless. illidan knew that he could not have rightfully turned the stranger away – not without true reason.
 
the man seemed as though he was growing tired of the third degree, though. he made a flippant comment about how he could just leave, that it wouldn’t bother him. illidan felt as though that was untrue. with a thoughtful frown, he breathed outward and turned to the sea. something in the sound of the water helped to ground him in such difficult times.
 
“it’s not unreasonable to imagine that we would have hesitation,” he voiced in a steady tone. “but if you put forth the effort to play a valuable role in our pack, there is no reason to turn you away. our world is very different from the one you came from. i will do what i can to help you, but do not take me for a fool. this is an extension of me – this invitation – and i will not let it become a mistake.” for once, he sounded like a leader.

caiaphas remained silent following vercingetorix's explanation. it was complicated was not an answer that resonated with her -- much like her son, caiaphas's skepticism was not lifted by such a cryptic reply.

keen as she was to cut down the man that had sunk his teeth into her, caiaphas held her tongue. it was not until vercingetorix casually slid in that he could just leave, that caiaphas' expression changed.

she resented the airy comment - it was a not-so-subtly disguised threat meant to rush them into a decision, as if he were a valuable asset on a limited-time offer.

it was then caiaphas saw vercingetorix for what he truly was -- not a loyal or steadfast soldier, but a dog plagued by the whims of his own tail.  

a true protector would not have so quickly snatched back an offer of eternal servitude. caiaphas sneered, preparing to turn him away herself - but then illidan spoke, and her words died on the tip of her tongue.

she would not have accepted him, but she was not illidan. perhaps in time he would learn that men were not to be trusted, and that wolves were only friends as long as food was in their belly. her disdain (and disapproval, even) was self-evident, but she said nothing to the contrary that was not readily apparent in her gaze.

in caiaphas' eyes illidan was entitled to his own opinion, even if it was wrong.

He didn't have beef with this kid. His mom? Sure. But the young man seemed reasonable enough, which already put him head and shoulders higher in Verx's esteem. It wasn't the time for wisecracks now, not when it appeared as if he was being given a seat at the table. He gave Illidan a nod, firm, eyes set on the other's face.

I appreciate it, Vercingetorix said, the ghost of a smile upon his muzzle. He didn't miss the look on Blackhead's face that ran somewhat counter to the invitation, but whatever. Didn't look like she was making the decision, anyway. I'm not such a bad guy when I'm on your side. I can promise you that.

And truly, he wasn't. It just might not be the kind of innocuous entrance they were, perhaps, hoping for.

he could feel the gaze of his mother on his skull. he may not have lived his entire life with her, but there was no denying the swelling feeling that had settled inside of him. she did not approve of this decision that he had made, but that was fine. illidan knew that it might have been a fool's attempt at peace, but he had been given a leadership role within the pack and he had no intention of letting anyone tell him that his decisions were wrong. the dark-hooded ghost was intent on making his own mistakes and learning from them on his own.

something inside of him hoped that he had not made one with this dark man. he did not know how he would live with himself if harm fell on his home or those within it. something in the man's voice had been enough to persuade illidan; he did not wish to stoop to such a low level that he would refuse a man a home when he had lost everything. the boy knew well enough what that was like, and he would have reminded his mother of such things... but not in that moment. having been turned away from easthollow had been the turning point for their family, and illidan believed it had destroyed any hope of peace that they might have had. he would not do it to another.

“what is your name?” the wildling inquired of their newest member.

caiapants out!

it was not her place to question the beta, even if the beta was her son. he would learn, in time, his own mistakes -- she would watch, of course -- and if she could, would do her best to turn storm into windfall and prevent harm from reaching illidan.

she did not care to learn the male's name, nor any further details of his sorry expedition. whatever gods existed, had driven him to their stretch of beach -- she hoped they had plans for vercingetorix far away from her and her brood. 

caiaphas said nothing else, falling well behind the duo. she watched vercingetorix like a bitter hawk, but kept her distance and allowed illidan his moment to excise his own judgment as he saw fit.

Vercingetorix, he answered, watching Blackhead stride away, clearly full of contempt. Then he returned his eyes to her son(?), giving him a nod. What can I do to help Rusalka today?

Yes, be helpful right off the bat. Folks loved that shit. And whatever the young man tossed at him, he'd at least attempt to tackle. Might as well get started straight away.

last post from me!

vercingetorix…
 
the name was something to marvel at, if he was being honest. illidan had not heard of anything like it before, but he didn’t think it appropriate to comment on the other man’s moniker. they had only just been formally introduced to each other, after all. the ghost nodded his head softly and then drew his head upward in order to provide the dark male with a proper name of his own.
 
“i’m called illidan. come on and i’ll give you a small tour before i leave you to settle in and make yourself at home,” the wildling remarked, gesturing with his muzzle for the brute to follow. his mother seemed to slip away from them, moving toward her own goals. truth be told, he was almost grateful that she was leaving them. it was not because he did not trust his mother, but because he did not want to let her down in his actions. illidan had only ever wanted her to be proud of him.
 
the boy led the man through the territory before letting him on his own. once they had parted ways, illidan ventured to the blackpine and found a dim corner where he could rest.