Whitefish River name of the game

Things were changing, and not for the better. The ground beneath their paws was unsteadier than he'd ever felt it -- which ran coincidentally parallel to how things were going within their fractured family. It had to be a sign, he thought. Even if it wasn't, he'd take it as one: a sign to get his shit together. To pull together what remained.

Vercingetorix padded up to the place where @Dragomir had been recuperating for the better part of two months, a long-legged rabbit in his jaws. Prey had gotten scarcer, too; he'd wanted to go for a larger animal, but it seemed the herds were on the run because of the unrest within the earth. Still, he dropped it, hoping that his children would see it for the offering of goodwill that it was.

If Dragomir was already there, he'd flash his son a smile, tail wagging behind him. If not, he'd clear his still-scratchy throat and lift his chin into the sunset air, calling for the boy and for @Isilmë.

How many days had passed since Aurë said she would be back? Too many, thought Dragomir despondently as he hobbled along the river. It was slow going and painful, his hips stiff from disuse and his legs even moreso, but at least he was able to stand up and move again. The first thing he'd done when he was finally steady enough to walk on his own was go down to the river. It reminded him of Diaspora, and on its banks he found a sort of balm for his hurting heart.

He was worried about his mother, who hadn't returned … but he was also angry, believing firmly that she had simply left him for good this time, and so going to search for her hadn't crossed his mind. Not like he could even if he wanted to. He had no idea where she went and he could barely walk a quarter mile without being out of commission for several hours after. The dark specter of doubt in his head told him she probably wouldn't even want him to, and so he remained mired in negativity.

He was just heading back to his sleeping place in the thicket when Vercingetorix arrived, carrying a very welcome rabbit in his jaws. As Dragomir settled down nearby with several winces and grunts, he did his best to quell the saliva that pooled in his jaws and the rumble that pinched his gut. Things were scarce lately, even he had noticed that despite being unavailable to help with anything. Now more than ever he cursed his inability to help … by now he should have been helping to hunt, fill the caches, anything to earn his keep. He could hardly even walk right, let alone chase prey, and that frustrated him.

Hei, he greeted, swallowing the vitriol from their last meeting that threatened to crawl up his throat. Being angry with his father couldn't be a priority right now, not while Aurë was still missing. Vercingetorix and Isilmë were all Dragomir had. He couldn't risk alienating either of them by continuing to act like a prat.

she heeds her father's call quickly, arriving a moment after Drago offers his greeting. "hei," she echoes, though it sounds distant. hunger twists as her gaze falls on the catch swinging from her father's jaws, though she can't bring herself to truly show interest in it. she's distracted, aimless, the past few days having seen her sink into something resembling a stupor. it's been too many days since Aure had promised her return, and yet her anger seems to have reached it's peak, leaving nothing but apathy. the ground beneath their feet is unsteady, unpredictable, and not even her fighting lessons appeal, now. still, her muzzle twists into a smile as she glances to her brother, one that remains as she refocuses her attention on Verx. despite her own feelings, she will not present anything less than a steady, content demeanor for her brother.

He grinned as his children arrived, first Drago and then Isi, and pushed the rabbit toward them. Here, he said softly. He gave them both apologetic looks. Eat. I know it's not a lot. . .but you've gotta keep your strength up. Prey is scarce all over the flatlands. Verx chose to ignore the sound of his own stomach rumbling rather than comment on it; even a wry jab at hunger might bring guilt into the conversation, and he didn't want to do that.

Whether or not they ate, he sat down, gazing at the kids with a solemn stare. I wanted to give you some of your history. Not your mother's side. . .I don't know enough to tell her story. But mine, at least. Tell you where I came from, why things have happened the way they have -- for the most part. It was a pretty fucking long story, honestly, but he'd try to keep it as brief as possible. He knew if he were in their shoes, he'd want brevity.

I grew up in a place called Trigeda, a ways away from here. Lots of trees and lots of wolves; it was a huge pack. We were trained to be warriors from the start, and there were other gedas, too -- Maungeda, Seageda. . .we all followed our commander, Heda. The last commander I knew was a woman named Thuringwethil. There was a big battle last autumn, and I served at her side. She made me her cheka -- her personal bodyguard.

Heda came here, he continued, to the coast, to a place called Drageda. It was her home. Of course, I went with her. I came to Drageda, and eventually, Aure joined us, too. That's where we met. Ah, the good old days. Lust and laughter and late nights. Sometimes, he longed for those nights again. More often than he'd admit, actually.

Verx cleared his throat, looking a bit sheepish. He hated that their relationship had deteriorated to the detriment of their children. He should have done better. They both should have done better.

Switching into common tongue, he continued: There were a group of wolves in an adjacent territory that we more or less claimed. It was clear they had past beef with Drageda. Prisoners were taken, battles were fought. . .it was very tense. Heda fell from the cliffs and died. Before I could figure out what to do, I was attacked by a woman who led the other group of wolves named Caiaphas. She gave me this, he said, lifting his chin to show them the scar. I almost died. Your mom was pregnant with you at the time and saved my life.

We could have stayed, but for what? Verx asked rhetorically, voice bitter. I didn't want to raise my kids in a place like that, where we had to constantly be on edge. Caiaphas attacked me for no reason, really; she could have done the same to Aure, or one of you. So we left; we went to the mountains. Leaving a geda means you're marked as a traitor for life. . .which means I can never go back to Trigeda. If I do, I'll be killed on sight.

No seeing Gavriel, or Llyr, or Ajatar or all the rest. That part of his life was closed off forever, and he took a brief moment to quietly mourn that fact before forging on. The silence gave Drago or Isi the chance to jump in if they wanted, too.

Just as she intended, Isilmë's own despondency went unnoticed by Dragomir, who returned her smile with a soft one of his own. It was easier to smile these days. He didn't feel so locked inside his mind except after a panic attack, and those were becoming less prevalent. He looked longingly back to the rabbit and could hardly stop himself wanting to pounce upon it when Vercingetorix offered it ... except that he couldn't physically do it, and that gave him enough time to think and ask, in quiet Trigedasleng, What about you?

When the rabbit was divided out, in halves or thirds depending if Vercingetorix would accept any or not, the father launched into the story of their history. Some small snatches of this were known to Dragomir, like how Verx got his scar, but the extra details were committed to memory. It was good to know the name of the deceased commander and the name of his father's assailant. It was good to know their decision to leave Drageda was for the safety of their kids, even if they had failed in other ways to provide a stable foundation since then.

A few questions crawled to the front of his mind throughout the course of Vercingetorix's tale, but he waited until the end to voice them. If you left because it was dangerous, why did you want to go back? and Why are you a traitor? That's stupid. Though it was much the same as what Stigmata had decreed when Aurëwen challenged him and lost. They were traitors. Or she was, specifically.

But that trickled down to the rest of them, too. Were they also natrona? They couldn't be; they had not run from anything. They had never been kru to begin with. Yet he wondered what these Dragedans might do to he or Isi if ever they crossed paths.

she will take whatever share she's offered, though at Drago's question, quietly urges her father, "you need to be strong, too." the guilt at eating why her father looks on comes without any comment from him, and she moves to tear the hare into rough herds, pushing one towards Verx with a pleading glance. she knows well enough she can't force him to do anything.

and then their father launches into a history; pieces of culture and events are already known to her, but she listens carefully as he elaborates on what she did not know. "you were kru. like praimfaya said." she comments, remembering her last interaction with the girl then. she's silent for the rest of his tale then, though her expression turns dour when he mentions that he can never go back. "that's a stupid rule. they just want to scare you into never leaving." she decides, eyeing her father. silently, she adds Caiaphas to her list of "fuckers to kill on site", right along with Sanguinus, or whoever it was that had hurt Dragomir. 

she wonder's, too, at praimfaya's claim at being wanheda. she wants to know what her father thinks of its validity; impressed as she was initially, she wonders how one so young could claim such a title. but this is her father's story, not praim's, and so she's content to listen to him answer drago's questions.

To humor the kids, he took a couple of nibbles, but was far too abstracted by what he had to tell them to eat much. Besides, it was for them. They were growing, he was not. He'd scrounge something up later.

Two questions from Dragomir, the latter of which made him grin. Verx, too, thought it was rather stupid, but them's the rules. He said as much, actually -- I dunno; I don't make the rules. I wish I wasn't natrona but it is what it is. The first query was a little more difficult to answer.

I wanted to make it not dangerous, Vercingetorix remarked, shrugging slightly. I wanted to make a nice home for us, by the sea. That's how it would have been if things hadn't gone to shit in Drageda. . .you two would be born on the coast, and eventually, when you proved yourselves, become Drakru.

He had thought about it often. Dragomir kom Drakru, Isilmë kom Drakru. God, he had wanted that for them! Even if they would have had to be Ruskru or whatever the fuck you'd call it -- if they lived by the sea and Caiaphas and her witchy daughter were both gone, things would be better. Verx believed that, wholeheartedly.

But it wouldn't have worked. The wolves in Rusalka. . .I don't even know if they know what they want. Caiaphas is crazy, her daughter too, the rest of them are either blind followers or surly -- I don't know. It wouldn't work. It didn't work, and that's why we eventually had to leave.

And why Dragomir had ended up in the forest where he'd been taken. Yeah, well aware. He'd beat himself up for that until the day he died.

But right now, he thought of the day they came to the river, instead. A terrible day -- but hey, they had ended up beside water after all. Not the sea, sure, but, uh, water. And thus. . .

You're children of the water in my eyes, Verx said, switching smoothly back to Trig. I think from now on, we should be Wodakru. I'm not allowed to be Trikru, after all -- and fuck all of them. Fuck everybody else except for you two. But you don't have to take the name if you don't want to, he added, smiling. But maybe. . . I dunno. Sometimes it helps to have a name.

Dragomir agreed with Isilmë. Keeping wolves loyal using fear is stupid. What a barbaric practice. For once, Dragomir's thoughts on this matter aligned more with his mother's than his father's, thanks to having been raised largely without the savagery of kru.

It was good that Dragomir didn't really know the full history between Drageda and Rusalka, else he would have thought his father was cuckoo. To go to one's enemy in hopes of making a safe home? Ridiculous! He could sense the sincerity in his father's voice, however, and felt the wall around his heart crumble just a little.

It crumbled more when Vercingetorix offered his latest, penultimate gift to his children: a surname of their very own. Dragomir kom Wodakru. A name that would never be shared by any others, just the three of them. He was lost for words and resorted to nodding gratefully.

skipping over Isi so I can get this bad boy wrapped up. RIP Verx <3

For all the things he and Aure had done wrong, there were -- well, actually, no. It was a testament only to nature and not nurture that Drago and Isi were turning out to be exemplary creatures. Smart, kind, athletic. . .seriously. All nature. So he wouldn't take credit, but damned if Vercingetorix wasn't bursting with pride, looking upon his children.

They were his greatest accomplishment. Fuck all the battle victories, the sexual conquests, the expansive travel. Father of Dragomir and Isilmë would be etched on his grave, if he were given one. That was all that mattered.

I'm so proud of you both, he said, giving them his gleaming smile, bright against his dark face. I just wanna be the dad you deserve. I'm gonna try my hardest to do that. No matter what it took. Hell, he'd watch over them after death if it was at all possible. And he liked to believe it was possible.

Folding himself down to his belly, Verx picked up one of the rabbit's bones, a curved piece of leg, bits of gristle still clinging to it. He growled playfully at his kids, wondering if one of them would indulge him in a friendly game of tag.

Or shit, maybe they were too old for games, now. Too jaded. But this moment was all he had. All that was guaranteed.

Why shouldn't they just have some fun, for once?