Stone Circle turn off your porcelain face

With a vague recollection of his whereabouts guided by bits of pieces of fleeting memories obtained in youth, the juvenile made his way through the hidden terrain with a tepid, wobbly gate. His body—once plump and over-fed in his days here was now hollowed, sunken. And along with it the dryness of his mouth did everything but distract the overwhelming pain in his stomach that festered with each growing hour.

He had been uncertain for most of his days. Uncertain of his meals, of his safety, of his sanity. But now the only thing he was certain of was the standing stones; a beacon in the land—they marked a place that he once sought comfort from. A home. A family.

And yet... he was uncertain if they still held such values to him. They probably did.

Somewhere deep down.

He paid no mind to the overwhelming stench at the borders as he passed through them. He didn't care. Just like he did for his fur.  The once a cool tone of grey was now dyed black by grit, hanging off his body in a spindly nature that hid him from those who might of once known him.

In all honesty he hadn’t been gone long, considering he had traveled all the way to Blackfeather. As he reached home, his step heavy from the emotional few days, he threw a howl up for @Nanook. Alerting her to his return, a smile cresting his lips as he hoped she would come find him.

He hesitated and cocked his head to the side. What was that? A scent he had never smelt before. His olive gaze narrowed, as he followed the smell. Finding the prints of a stranger well within the sacred borders of Easthollow, Siarut grew angry. A snarl curled his lips, his pace increasing to a sprint.

He finally found the dark shades of the mangy intruder. A furious bark ripped from his lips, as he charged the lone wolf. His teeth snapped, as he gained speed.

Valette had been on the borders. She had the feeling that Greyback was getting older quickly and that doing as much patrols as he did. She decided to step up and do some patrols for him. The female trotted on the border, marking where she could when she heard a snarl in the distance. Her ears perked up curiously, had she missed something.

Valette galloped towards the sound and found Siarut charging at a stranger. Again!?! When would these loners learn some manners instead of barging through their territory. The female moved her head lower as she charged from a different angle than Siarut. A low growl came from her throat. As she was later she was behind the white male. She made sure Siarut heard her growl and thumped her paws extra hard in the ground so they knew she was coming right behind him in the attack. Still too far away to see that this was one of her young.

The sound of distant snarls was more than enough to alert the juvenile of his inevitable demise. He didn't have to turn his head to know who or what was coming—it didn't matter. Sooner or later he would be put to rest, whether it be ripped flesh from bone and lay bare within the snow, or to ultimately succumb to his starving body. He was just glad it would be within the confines of his birthplace.

Swallowing his dry throat, the stocky-legged boy stopped mid-step and turned to face his savior with an unwavering, olive gaze. He did not cower before them, nor did he part his lips in aggression and utter any words. He merely stood, silent and unwavering like a child's toy as they neared closer.

He heard her before he smelt her, the Matriarch once again defending her territory. Siarut assumed the loner would take off at his approach and was surprised when her turned toward him and stood his ground. But given his last encounter with a lone wolf inside Easthollow, Sia wouldn’t stop to ask questions this time.

The man was smaller than Sia, and held a softer edge. But there was a distinct lack of meat on his bones, and it appeared he hadn’t exactly been hygienic, his fur matted. At full speed, Siarut tackled the offending male. Teeth searching for anything he could grab.

As Valette came charging in after Siarut she noticed something about the stranger. Her green eyes feverishly scanned over the grey young male. She frowned, then she saw his eyes. Clay. CLAY! "Siarut! NO!," she called him off but he had already tackled the other, or so it seemed. Valette jumped in on the action only to get the white male to back off with a mother's fierceness. "That is my son!"

"Clay!," she called out. He was alive. He was back. Not sure how he would get out of this attack from Siarut... "You're back," she breathed out but then she also realized that he left, without a word. It had hurt her. He had abandoned their family. He kind of deserved a little pain, as bad as she felt thinking that.

Before he knew it the weight of the white male collided with him, and with it he tumbled down like a wet rag. The earth under him was ice, permeating through his fur and into his bones. He shuddered at the feeling, letting it seep more into his body... or maybe it was the pain blooming at the side of his neck where Siarut had latched onto.

Regardless he did nothing, only wincing and letting out a shuddering breath at the bite before turning his head to the sound of another—high pitched and feminine. "Val...ette?" he groaned in question, looking up with a squinting gaze. Had his plans gone to shit? Was she not going to kill him? He feverishly rushed his forepaw upwards to wipe at his olive eyes, smearing away the dirt and mud to give way to his face. "How did you know it was me?"

He felt the barest trickle of Valette’s anger as she forced him off the intruder…HER SON? The pale bear backed off as quick as he could, confusion and frustration tugging at his protective instincts. He paced back and forth a short distance from the mother-son pair. His olive gaze fixed firmly on Clay.

Valette's heart clenched, but not in a good way when he called her by her name instead of 'mom'. Was that how he saw her? Just a random wolf he knew and not his mother anymore. Valette could cry, though she was certainly not doing that in front of Clay. "I am your mother. You are part of me. I know," she commented to him. She was uncertain why he was here since he had clearly not want to be here before.

Valette gave a nod in thank you to Siarut for protecting the territory once again, only now they didn't need protection. She turned back to Clay. "I've missed you. Where have you been? Were you out on your own?," she asked, she assumed because of his condition he was in. "Why did you leave?," she then asked, clearly hurt and confused. She had tried to be the best mother for him but apparently that had not been enough...

The weight ceased, and Clay—broken, and feeling smaller than ever under the heavy gaze of his mother wobbled to his legs to stand in front of her. No longer was he the boy that sat and cried, clinging near to her leg for comfort like one often did to the stones. No— now he stood before her, rivaling her with his size, cept' for the grace and authority she carried.

"I," the silence and her expression spoke volumes to him and he withered beneath her slightly. Had he upset her with his words? With his dismissal and abandonment? "I'm sorry," he whispered, looking down at his trembling paws with folded ears. "I didn't mean to. I was scared, I was abducted by this man and taken far from here."

Is that what it had been? Abduction? He had went of his own free will but the man- Vengenace, had warped his sense of reality. Taken advantage of him as a pup. "There was a bunch of us, he was building an army of children for his pack to takeover. I-" he was rambling now, and his breath was catching in his throat.

"Im sorry," he hiccuped once more as he flushed a deep color of shame. He was now crawling beneath her, showing Valette the sunken state of his stomach in submission as he wagged his tail. "Please forgive me."


No. He was still that boy.

ah im so sorry! I didn’t think it was my turn

Clay delated in the presences of his mother, and with his submission, Siarut also relaxed. Glancing between the two, he kept silent. Listening to the story with a mixture of pity and sadness. Sia knew very little of Valette’s family and the grief that she has suffered from the absence of her children, and wayward mates. He had never wanted to pry, just as he appreciated his own family history remaining more private.

Dipping his head slightly, Siarut returned his attention to Valette. “Shall I leave you with your son Valette?” Sia had no intention of encroaching on a reunion of mother and son, and so if Valette didn’t need him as back up he would retreat to tell Nanook of her nephew’s return.

Valette listened to her boy. The first words he spoke were that he was sorry. He was still her sweet boy after all then. He really did seem sorry. Valette's heart melted when she saw the sad trembling boy looking up at her. "Abducted?," she repeated in shock. So he had not left on his own free will? Now she felt terrible for not looking for him further, they had searched for him of course. But, she felt that Clay had left himself by his own choice. Siarut spoke, and it reminded her that he was still there. "Yes, thank you Sia," she spoke. She wouldn't mind a private moment with her son.

Valette could only wonder if that female with her dark face was behind it. Would she ever give them some peace? "An army of children? What? He? It was lead by a male?," she questioned, well there went her theory. She noticed that it was heavy on her son. The female stepped closer, and had to reach to lick the crown of his head. "Of course I will forgive you, Clay. I have never been mad at you," she returned, she had only been hurt.

The white male-Siarut, was sent away. And as they parted Clay kept his olive gaze on him, tracking the white wolf till he was out of earshot and past his field of view. He seemed nice, respectable and soft spoken towards his mother. Were the rest of the wolves like that? Clay wondered how much had changed since he last stepped paw here.

He looked back to his mother, and with a gulp he listened as she asked her questions. She forgave him—or at least she said she did, and it was then he realized that perhaps he wouldnt be punished; with that he feebly, slowly, and cautiously turned back onto the stomach and rose up to a weak stance. His bent tail and was still tucked below him, and he still kept his head lower than his mother's.

"His name was Vengeance, warlord of Nightwalkers." Clay whispered, scared of even uttering the name. "All of us there were pups, 'cept three. I think..." It was hard to recall the thoughts. "We were all kept in a pit at first, and when we showed potential we would be trained to... uh,...execute... others. Some weren't so lucky. Those who were insubordinate had their limbs broken and tossed back into the hole." He shook as he talked. "I-I don't want to talk about this anymore. Thank you for forgiving me. Is.. dad home? Leta and the others?" he questioned.

Sia can be skipped from now on, throw out a tag if you want him back :)

Sure, enough his sister-in-law no longer needed him, and Siarut didn’t wish to intrude. Dipping his head in a final greeting, and casting one last lingering eye on the new arrival, Siarut turned and headed for his den. There was much to tell Nanook.

Valette frowned when she heard the name, it was disturbing to her that there were not one but two kidnappers in the area. That female that wanted to take Leta and now this male. She hated to hear what Clay had to go through. She shook her head. "I'm so sorry this happened to you," she spoke. She had tried to protect her children from harm like this but one blink of an eye and they were scooped off. She had been serious that outside of the borders there was danger. Valette shook her head. "I understand you don't have to, only if you want to. Though it is important to talk about it eventually otherwise it will fester inside of you," she commented.

Valette nudged him to follow her. She would first give him a proper meal because the boy looked far too skinny. "Your father is away. He went to look for you and Newt," she admitted. Maybe Clay would be relieved, she wasn't sure. "Leta and West are still here. Arlette as well. Leta will be so excited," she added. She looked over Clay. "I'm so happy you are home. First you should eat though."

you want a new thread with the siblings?

She shook her head, and in turn he did the same. "Don't be sorry. It is not your fault." He didn't want his mother to feel his shame. To bear his humiliation and sorrow. It was his, after all. And he alone would bear the pain and weight that he carried within his bones.

She asked him to talk about it, but Clay couldn't. He couldn't find it in himself to open back up. Not now. Not yet. He had been cut open so many times, flayed out and bore his belly to the world for it to sink it's fangs into. If he were to do it again he might not survive, or so he thought. But nonetheless he nodded to his mother, a lie that he would.

"Just promise me if you smell, see, or hear of The Nightwalkers that you run. Run far away and take everyone. Don't fight them, just run." He warbled out. "We're monsters, trained to kill wolves efficiently and quickly. Weather it be for power or for food." He turned to face the stones in the distance, their forms towering far over the horizon.

"Newt is gone?" Clay didn't care much for his father. He didn't worry for the man who was old and big as the trees themselves. He could take care of himself, but newt? A shiver ran through the boy. He wanted to care, to spend more time talking to his mother; but the mention of food has his stomach turning, and he could no longer ignore the sharp pain that settled there. "Please take me to the caches, I don't think I can walk..."