Swiftcurrent Creek Is there a line that we could just go cross?

He returned just with dusk's approach, and lifted his ears to the sound of evening birdsong. Starling twittered among themselves in the treetops above Viinturuth's head as he meandered along familiar roots, at ease in his stride to appreciate the familiar feeling of damp earth underfoot. The land of Swiftcurrent had always been rich and fertile, and all negativity that the pale wolf had once associated with the territory was lost to him. Life had moved on in recent years, and he wished only for the peace of having a place to make his own.

@Akavir thrived here, he assumed. It was evident in the strength of his markers, and he wondered if perhaps he'd found the will to carry on after Ibis. It'd been two long years since the dove had perished, and his brother had changed following that discovery.

He sent forth a low call for his most favoured sibling, eager to reunite once again.

Tags simply for reference.

The day felt like any other for now—unbeknownst just yet to the Alpha what was transpiring in the marsh nearby, Akavir found himself on border duty. He had tried to coax @Nicodem or @Jakub along—neither seemed particularly keen on such matter, and any invitation he had wished to extend to @Mae had been swept away when he could not find her for now—not something that brought worry to him, given she spent most of her days actively avoiding him.


The quiet was disconcerting. Two daughters missing—one daughter hated him. Two sons who more or less took life as it came if only to survive the next day rather than flourish. If this wasn’t a sign to the man he had utterly failed as a father tenfold, he didn’t know what was—and solemnly, he knew that from now on he would ave no business having more children. He would simply fail them, too.

Even @Arric seemed to hold little want to be in his presence.

So when a call from the borders sounded, the ebony man was quick to sweep forward, a light frown placed to his features at the jab of familiarity that pulled at his chest. When Viinturuth came to view, Akavir stopped—his eyes grazing over his littermate, surprise written in his very stance.

Viinturuth's howl tapered, and he straightened with a forward sweep of his lobes to listen. No voice cane in response. He heard only the sounds of nature all around him: songbirds calling to know another, the hum of crickets in the long grass, the distant rush of fast-flowing water. He wondered if perhaps Akavir had took himself for an outing beyond Swiftcurrent's borders.

His brother was swift to appear, however, and the pale ranger lifted his chin to look upon him. He recalled vividly how they'd found one another in the rain two years prior, how the darker of the duo had been broken by grief. He'd done all he could to support him through the darkness yet a shadow of it lingered quietly in Akavir, and Viinturuth swore saw it in the champagne hue of his littermate's eyes as he stared right back.

Don't look so thrilled to see me, the pale wolf quipped, a corner of his maw tugging upward in a smirk to accompany the merry sway of his tail.

Viinturuth’s words were playfully sly—a glimpse of the littermate he knew so well. His mouth quirked—no matter the time and distance the two had between one another as they grew, they always found one another in the end, picking up exactly where they left off.

“I was just surprised at how old you look now,” he returned, his smirk widening as he began to close the distance between them. Champagne eyes studied deep burgundy—his brows lifting. “Where’ve you been spending your time these days?”

Viinturuth huffed a breath through his nose in a snort, feigning offence at his littermate's comment. Harsh, he answered simply, his dark eyes glimmering with mischief. There was very little Akavir could say that would rouse offence in the pale ranger. He prowled forward on heavy paws, eager to close the distance between them.

Here and there, he rumbled, reaching to butt the crown of his head roughly to the side of his brother's in boyish affection, everywhere and anywhere.

He withdrew and straightened to look upon raven features, to search for the signs of sorrow in the finer details that he'd grown to expect. Tell me everything, Viinturuth requested.

‘Harsh.’ Bemusement wrote itself upon his features, his shoulders lifting in a half-hearted shrug. That was when Viinturuth closed the distance between them, and with a headbutt to his shoulder, Akavir finally barked out a laugh. It had been too long since he had seen his brother.

“So everywhere and nowhere?” Teasing words—Akavir wanted to ask if the ivory Mayfair had been to see their parents recently, but the words died on his tongue for now.

'Tell me everything.'

Hoo, boy.

It seemed his littermate was looking to avoid discussing himself—something the swarthy Alpha would return to later. For now, with a playful nip to the white wolf’s ears, he snorted. “The biggest news I guess is I have three pups this year... The mom is gone, seems to have run off in the night.”

Ey, he barked as Akavir shifted against him to nip at the base of a tufted white lobe, and moved to mouth him away playfully. Viinturuth had always been the larger of the two, and definitely saw himself as having the upper hand. All he had to do was raise his head and Akavir's short ass could never assault his poor, innocent ears!

News of his littermate siring another litter brought them springing forward once again, and his burgundy eyes widened in surprise. Ibis' memory was something his dark brother would carry forever, as was the insinuation she'd made, and it pained Viinturuth to learn that Akavir had been discarded by the mother of his latest brood.

Yeah? Viinturuth flicked his tongue over a rugged canine, how's that single dad thing working out for you?

He only had to pause briefly to consider Viinturuth’s question. “They basically hate me. At least, my daughter does. The boys are sullen and indifferent.” Then another pause—“But they’re alive, so I figure that's a plus.”

That was saying something, it seemed, given the amount of trouble the Creek usually found itself in.

“But I wouldn’t say I’m raising them by myself. The entire pack is doing it.”

He paused, casting his brother a knowing look. “No mini-you’s running amuck yet? At least that you know of?”


No whirlwind loves, the way he and his ex-wife had been?

He blinked, disbelief at the heart of him to consider the statement that Akavir had made: how his children hated him. Viinturuth scrunched his nose at that, recalling how Arielle and Lilitu had grown up adoring their father in those early months - those that the ranger had been there to observe. There had to be something deep-rooted to cause such friction, though he did not press for knowledge of it. Their mother had vanished, and he knew all too well how the complications of parents could affect one's childhood.

It was good that his comrades each played their own role in the rearing of the Alpha's pups, especially in the absence of their dam. That was the way things ought to be, though it was unfortunate to hear that it was not enough.

Nah, he rolled a shoulder, pretending not to care if he was responsible in the conception of new life. Viinturuth had lived his life carelessly over the years he travelled alone, warming the beds of several females - most who'd tired of their mates at home, whose names he'd never learned. A smooth-talking bachelor with travel-worn paws seemed to excite the bored pack-dwelling girls who'd been intrigued by adventure they'd never experience. He was not that boy any longer, however, and he wore the guilt of his wrongdoing like armour. Not for me. You really think I'm the type to settle down like that?

Viinturuth played the question off—Akavir, though, was reminded of the days uncle Viinturuth had spent with the girls. The way he had doted upon them, not only as a protective guardian, but a loving uncle as well.

“Yeah,” he answered with fondness pulling at the smile that curled his lips. “I do.”

But the conversation for now could drift—his eyes lifting to the sky as he considered the moment. There was of course far more things to tell his brother, but for now, he simply remained content in the ivory wolf’s company. “If you stay for dinner, I’ll even tell you about my terrible luck at love and the strange triangle I found myself in.” He paused—was it a triangle if he was the fourth? Or did he only count the she-wolves? “Maybe it’s a square?” He shrugged. "I can also tell you about the rogue cowboy group that tried to take the creek from us, but my Beta and I beat the shit out of them."

A beat of something deep within his chest caught him off guard when Akavir stated that he did, indeed, think him the type to put down roots. Viinturuth considered it quietly, this nameless feeling at the heart of him - was it acceptance? Perhaps his brother was right. With years of stubbornness and reminder of his own parents' undoing, he'd failed to ground himself somewhere. Age was creeping up on him, though, and it was a sore realisation that he was not getting any younger.

He said no more on the matter, and was glad to let it go when his brother carried on with far juicier discussion of his own romantic involvement. Viinturuth's intrigue piqued; not only one but three she-wolves seemed to vye for the blackbird's attention, and he emitted a bark of amusement. Come, he beckoned to his raven littermate, aiming to deliver a sharp nip to his shoulder as he passed him by, tell me how it is that you get all this attention. I'm willing to bet they turn their eyes to me now that I'm here!

Akavir barked a laugh—though he did wonder idly if more testosterone within their ranks would help even some things out.

And thus he caught up with his brother, reveling for the moment that Viinturuth was here, and wondering how long it would take for the man to fall victim to his wanderlust once more… Not that it mattered. They always found a way back to one another.