Blackfeather Woods i am a hoarder of worlds

All welcome. @Damien

She’d been able to leave the den more and more, able to get farther away from the den than the previous day, and she’d finally gotten far enough away that she couldn’t even see the den. That had been exciting and she’d praised it, at the confusion of either of her parents when they didn’t react in the way she’d hoped. Her goals, often kept to herself, should have been assumed. In the same way she knows things from them they haven’t told her, they should have understood this. Her excitement had turned into frustration and, for the most part, it’s short lived but every morning she continues her morning walk and exploring the surroundings of her den. 

This morning, after her walk and being fed, she’d been left on her own when she’d fallen asleep. Perhaps they didn’t think they’d be gone too long or that she’d been asleep longer, but as she blinked her eyes and looked around to find no one nearby, she feels the sudden thrum of her heart beat a little faster. Qilaq sucks in a breath and searches the den thoroughly, despite the tiny space being easy to see, but greying eyes look anyway. Confirmed they are not inside, she works her way out into the bright, warm sun, and sees no one else nearby. With a huff-turn-hum, the girl plops down in defeat and lowers to the warm earth, rolling over to her side. Her eyes close as the sun soaks into her dark fur, heating up her body to an enjoyable degree.

*steals*

With his return home, the male had waited a bit before seeking out his father. Minutes had been expected, but they'd quickly morphed into hours. Finally, though, he'd decided to tell his father of his findings. It was towards his den that the younger Inuit had gone, knowing the path by heart at this point. He'd not visited in a long while, but still was the trek engraved into his mind. He could not forget the space where his family lived even if he'd wanted to, for it was the only tie to his blood that he had anymore. Desna, Nanook, Sesi... even Scarlett, as he'd taken to referring to her as, had gone away in one way or another. He'd been abandoned by them, but never had either his father or Nemesis left him. They always seemed to be there exactly when he needed them, something he appreciated greatly, and so he'd not thought twice before heading their way. Surely he'd be welcomed, after all, given his status as their son.

As the site was neared, it was neither of his parents that he'd seen. Rather, right in the middle of his path, there laid a child. It was a girl, he could tell that much from her scent alone, and it was also revealed to him that she carried his father's and Nemesis' fragrance about her. Though he'd been informed of his new sister by his father shortly after her arrival, it was his first time actually seeing her. He didn't know what to do, and so he'd simply approached her, stopping when just a short bit of distance remained between them. He'd been told before that he'd never be replaced, yet, seeing her lying there made him feel almost as if he had been. Naturally, a scowl filled his features, brows knitting together in the process. Whether he was angry or confused, he could not tell. So, for the moment, he said nothing. The boy simply stood there, watching the dark child with an uneasy feeling settling into his stomach.

The young girl sleeps easily with the sun warming her fur, lost in a hazy dreamscape and her surroundings are far from her mind. Where wolves might be aware of their surroundings, even in their sleep, Qilaq remains unaware of the approaching wolf. His footfalls do no startle her awake and his scent filling up her nose does nothing to rouse her either. She lays there, evening breathing giving a slow rise and fall of her chest. Her paw twitches once or twice and her ear flicks automatically to a bug that land upon her, sending it on its way.

The male's approach had done nothing to motivate the child to wake up, resulting in a low huff slipping past his lips. Was something wrong? Was he supposed to get someone? His options had been pondered, but the idea of retrieving another wolf ended up being dismissed. He could manage the situation just fine, he was sure of it. There couldn't be that much work that went into watching over some kid, so he'd taken a few more steps until he was standing over her. From there, Xan nudged her—a bit rougher than what had been intended—in the hopes that his poking might make her get up. After that, he wasn't sure what he'd do, uncertain of what the best option might be. Leading her away from his family, perhaps... or, maybe not. While he didn't understand what had made his dad decide to take her in, he knew that he would only hurt himself if she suddenly went missing right after he'd seen her. So, again, he prodded the girl with his nose, urging her to get up so that he could better inspect her worth to him.

She’s not given much longer to sleep when a nose touches her, roughly, and she jerks awake too quickly. Her stomach rumbles with the sudden upset and her mouth begins to salivate, but nothing comes out of the heave. She blinks a few times and looks up at the tall, white wolf that at first she thinks is the large male that sleep in the den at night, but there’s something different about him. And he smells funny. The realization for all of this happens so fast that she moves from heaving to a panicked backward shuffle away and the girl urinates on herself—only to be splashed around by flailing and panicked limbs until she comes to a stuff halt in the mess she’s made.

He was wary when he found Xan's scent in the direction of the den where Qilaq was kept. Cicero did not know for their reasons of taking in the young girl, but he knew that Xan could be a jealous being, an ambitious being, from what he had experienced. And so when he found the scent trace he decided to follow it until he eventually wound up at the den, looking at Xan's butt as he seemed to be interacting with the girl in some way.

The thick and disgusting scent of piss filled the air just as Cicero appeared on the scene. He wrinkled his nose as the scent penetrated his senses and then said, mischievous tone to his voice and yet at the same time clearly not joking, "Looks like Xan has some accident clean up to do here, as the big brother he is now." And he stared intently at Xan with pressing mismatched eyes, waiting for him to get to it. Well, maybe after he had washed off whatever had splashed on him, for it looked like it had been quite the mess.

Xan had watched with a mixture of both interest and disgust when the girl had been awoken, shuffling away from him while peeing on herself in the process. Her flailing limbs had resulted in his forelimbs being splashed, a few stray droplets having even touched the lowest section of his chest. His need to be clean was something that he'd never quite grown out of, and so a growl had started to build within the back of his throat. Not only had the girl inserted herself into his family, but then she'd gone and indirectly peed on him? For the boy, it was an infuriating series of events. Before the sound had become clearly audible, though, he'd been forced to swallow it down by the appearance of another.

Something along the lines of a sharp tch! had escaped the boy's mouth at the other's words, a slow shake of his head following after. "She can clean herself, or she can sit there and soak in it until Nemesis or my dad find her," was his reply. "I'm not doing it." Letting her sit in her own filth would not lead to an immediate death, and so he was unmotivated to step in and help. As long as the child wasn't physically hurt under his watch, he'd not fall out of good graces with his parents.

Her fur feels warmer in some spots, and wet, and her nose wrinkles when she realizes what she’s done. Her sides heave, tongue lolling from her mouth, as she stares up at the two wolves with wide eyes. One looks like the big white wolf that stays in the den most of the time, but in the same way the female had looked like him. Big. And white. She blinks back a few confusing thoughts and peers toward the other one that looks a little different, unlike the wolves she’s seen so far.

Qilaq stares a little longer than perhaps she should, watching the dark male across the way. They exchange a few words but they don’t make it to the girl. She finds herself focused more on his eyes and how one looks different than the other. The longer she stares at them, the weirder she feels. Her chest feels heavy and her stomach drops, shuffling back out of the muddy puddle she’s made.

Cicero's teeth bared in warning as Xan let out a dismissive sound at his words. Though they were meant to provoke, for that was one of Cicero's favourite pasttimes, he had meant them. It was clear coming onto this scene that Xan had caused this mess, and so he should be the one to clean it up. An eye for an eye. Justice was a thing, however skewered Cicero's moral standards may be, that he held very dearly.

"Xan caused it, so Xan should fix it." Mismatched eyes stared intently at Xan from sunken sockets, his face still looking worn from the famine's ravaging on his body. He was thin, bones showing almost as though he was a skeleton model in a classroom, but it did not take away the strength of his gesture. He spared the pup a single glance before he looked back at Xan, lifting his lips to reveal a snarl in warning as he said: "One should do as they are told by their elders, Alexander."

The display was not one he'd have ever expected to see coming from Cicero, successfully managing to catch him off guard. It was quick that he'd recovered, however, responding with a low growl and a narrowed gaze. It was not Damien before him, but his brother—a being that the albino fully believed to be of no threat, for he'd neither the same power nor drive as the shadow prince. As such, he was not someone to fear or act differently around. "I won't fix it," he'd said once more, glancing towards the kid. "I didn't choose to bring it here, I didn't say that I wanted a sibling. That thing isn't my responsibility." His ears had since fallen back against his head, a mixture of disgust and annoyance present within his features. It wasn't his fault that she'd wet herself, and so he'd do nothing to help her.

No matter how he looked at it, he couldn't perceive the patchwork wolf as a legitimate threat. The famine had reverted him into a living skeleton, more or less, and so there wasn't much that he could do. In a way, the Inuit almost pitied him, but all of that had been zapped away the second he'd opened his mouth. "It's Xan, not Alexander," he'd corrected, his name still being a touchy subject even after so long. "If you care about it so much, then you clean it." With that, he'd moved forward, fully intending to shove passed the other male. He's not been tempted enough to truly lash out with tooth and claw, but he also didn't hold back or lessen the force placed behind his shoulder.

Childish as he tended to be -- though, considering his age, not entirely surprising -- Xan denied any responsibility, claiming to have no share in this. But he had seen the fear on the child's face, and the resentment on Xan's. Cicero had expected nothing less than these words, but he did not intend to let Xan get away without doing as he was told. Xan was perhaps still young, but he was no longer the young pup that Cicero had taught how to fight.

"Watch your words," Cicero said sharply as he revealed a snarl, his voice changing as he spoke and felt the beast stir for a moment.

As Xan tried to push past him, Cicero's ears pulled back and he revealed parted teeth as he snapped at Xan's face in warning not to thwart his authority.

The child had since been forgotten, attention place solely upon Cicero. Perhaps he should have been more flexible considering the lessons he'd once received from the older male, but, of course, he was not. Xan saw things in only one way, being what he wanted to do and when he wanted it done. Cleaning a soiled pup was nowhere near being something he intended to do, and so he'd opted to leave instead. Yet, he'd brought himself to a stop in the process of doing so, the cocktail of words, snarls, and teeth having set him off.

In spite of the warning, he'd not turned around to tend to the child, nor had he issued an apology. Rather, he'd denied the other's authority, his own face contorting into a snarl. It was thereafter that Xan had jerked forward, attempting to secure his jaws around the other's scruff. If successful, he'd proceed by trying to then push Cicero down towards the ground. If he were to fail, however, distance would be sought after until another opportunity arose.

Though he had hoped that Xan would realise ignoring such a warning from one of his leaders would lead to consequence, Cicero had guessed that he might not, considering his childish behaviour earlier. The counterattack was calculated into these thoughts, though he had hoped it would not happen, and so when Xan lurched forth Cicero was prepared to move out of the way. He lifted his head, blocking the way to his scruff but feeling Xan's teeth graze at his chest.

Teeth snapped forward once more, but this time not in warning, as he tried the same as Xan had, going after him should he take his distance.

The desired target had not been hit, much to his annoyance. Yet the feeling of his teeth grazing against another part of the male's body kept him from getting distracted, making him recall what he was doing and for why he was doing it. In spite of this, he'd not been prepared for a countering of his attack, and especially not with an act formed from the same intentions as his own. Xan was not quick enough to realize, and so his eventual attempt at moving away proved futile once he'd felt teeth upon him.

His first instinct was to coil back, but the reminder of who he was against had him doing something else, instead. It was not Damien, and so his mind could not connect his actions to being capable of causing any repercussions against either himself or his family. And so, rather than giving in, he'd pushed off the ground with his forelimbs in order to fling his body backwards, aiming to flatten Cicero beneath his weight. The possibility of wounds inflicted on him in the process of doing so remained far from his mind, his need to win having been blinding enough.

Cicero was glad when his teeth hit their mark and he managed to pin Xan by the scruff. He would hold on for a bit longer and then release so that he could walk away, hopefully with a lesson learned on the other side. He kept a firm grip on Xan's scruff, waiting for him to stop struggling.

Yet instead of stopping his struggles Xan suddenly propelled himself off the ground. Cicero hadn't seen this coming and he was caught off-guard, finding himself flung to the ground, his grip loosening on Xan's scruff. Disoriented by the tumbling, Cicero didn't instantly retaliate.

For the moment in which he'd been pinned, a memory arose that sent him back to a previous meeting not with Cicero, but his brother. The humiliation still burned within his chest, dulled only slightly by time. Extinguished had it been, though, when he'd felt the grip around his scruff loosen. It'd been just enough for him to tear away with hardly a flinch, only to lead into a wince once he'd felt a throbbing in his lower back and hips from his fall. Pushing past it, he'd brought himself fully to his feet and spun around, feeling his body lurch back towards the other male.

Again, he would try to snag hold of the wolf's scruff—or any of the surrounding area—with the intent to force his face into the dirt.

For a moment Cicero was disoriented as he fell to the ground. Normally he might have been faster to come to his feet, but because he was exhausted from the famine Cicero wasn't quick enough to react and before he knew it, Xan was already upon him again.

Cicero wasn't quick enough to react, so he was unable to stop Xan from coming at him again. He tried to react, lifting head with parted teeth, but before he managed he felt Xan's teeth grip around his scruff, forcing his teeth away.

This time, he'd not missed, his teeth having found their way around the other male. A growl broke through his chest then, head pushing forward until the earth decided that he was unable to move Cicero any closer to it. He'd spread his legs then, balancing himself out so that he could pull back and shake his head, similar to how a dog might do with its toy. There was a tiny voice in the back of his head that almost insisted he do the same to Cicero as Damien had done to him, but after a moment of actual thought and consideration, he'd decided it was unnecessary. His point had been proven, or so he'd assumed, and that was all he'd cared about.

Alexander had held tight for several seconds longer, only to gradually loosen his grip before letting go entirely. He'd stepped away after that, but kept his sight locked on the other body just in case.

Skin scraped across the dirt painfully as Cicero's face connected to the ground. He gritted his teeth and felt his head swim; he'd spent much energy on the fight and had little to no left. Weakened by the famine, Cicero had nowhere to go and he felt dizzy as he was tugged back and forth across the ground a few times.

When he finally was released he just lay there and groaned as he looked up, mismatched eyes half opened as he tried to steady his vision, not yet ready to get to his feet.

An attempt to get up had yet to be made, essentially pleasing the younger male. His tail raised behind him as ears were shoved forward, a final, silent snarl finding its way past his lips. "You should've just left me alone," he'd stated, glaring downwards at him. "This could've been avoided." It was all he'd said before turning to leave, sparing not another glance in either of the wolves' directions. If nothing, or no one, were to stop him, he'd carry on through the woods until the borders were reached, where he'd then leave for an undetermined amount of time.

*steals stolen thread*

The sound of snarls brought a thrilling chill down Damien's spine. The voices unrecognizable, but sure coming from two members of the pack. There had been a period of peace since Damien had taken control and he felt it was his duty to be present in events of violence.

So his paws took him fast, sprinting between trees hoping to get to the scene in time. It took him a moment to locate the source of the growling, but once the smell of blood reached him he knew where to go. There he found to shapes, one gaunt like only his brother's, and the younger, pale form of Alexander, and he was turning to leave. Damien ran past his brother, seeing it was obvious he had just beaten his weakly Speaker, and raced to catch up with him, growling and barking and making it obvious that he would take the boy down if he managed to reach him.

Cicero remained motionless as Xan spoke, staring at him with his mismatched eyes. He would think on how to deal with the situation later; maybe he would tell Damien about what happened, or have a talk with Xan when he had rebounded from the famine's weakening.

Yet when Xan turned to leave, tail in the air in victorious gesture, Cicero's eyes widened as he looked upon his withdrawing form. Not even Damien's approach was noticed by Cicero as he stared and found himself in an epiphany.

He didn't know how, he didn't know why; he just knew it was true.

It was Xan who had taken him that night, and the realisation sent chills through his spine -- to think that he had lived in the same pack all this time...

The sound of heavy footfalls made it known that he was being pursued, and he hadn't needed to look back to realize who it was. He'd been in the presence of an angry Damien enough to recognize his voice, which encouraged him to increase his speed in an effort to get away. He had not considered what sort of attention he'd drawn to the scene prior to targeting Cicero, but quickly realized that he should have.

Xan hadn't stopped, nor even looked back despite how strong his desire to do so was. He'd forced himself to continue forward, though his pace was slower than before on account of his fall. Still, he did not let himself stop, fearful of what might come if he did.

Damien was a bulky wolf, built for brute force instead of speed, but he had managed to cut the distance from Xan at the fresh start. Neither Damien nor Xan would stop running until the other was down, Damien realized, so he pushed himself to the edge of his physical capacity and lunged forward with jaws wide open aimed at Xan's heels.

Teeth clutched fiercely on thin limbs, and the wraith sent both of them into a cloud of dust as they tumbled to the ground with a heavy landing Something cracked Down Damien's spine, and the hit blew him off breath. His body rolled until the rough tumbling killed the momentum, and once he was able to catch his breath again he painfully got up on all fours. "How many times must we go through this?" growled the dark master after, he still managed to lift his tail and rattle a low growl at the boy before lunging at him in an attempt to keep him pinned to the ground like he had done once before.

Xan had thought himself capable of getting away, but he'd been wrong. Damien had managed to grab hold of him, sending them both rolling. A yelp slipped out of the albino whilst he'd tumbled along, his already bruised backside being battered some more, as were his shoulders and chest. A breath was caught in his throat from the impact, having left him gasping for air by the time he'd finally come to a stop. An attempt to get up was started, but never completed. Words forced his ears to lay flat against his skull, tail practically tucking beneath him as his body was lowered to the ground. There existed so many that he'd gladly stand up against, but Damien was one of the few whose wrath was enough to terrify him.

Once pinned, the only movements made were during his attempts at looking anywhere except for the looming shadow. "I was defending myself!" he'd said, the words being forced out as he tried so desperately to ensure his explanation was heard. "He came after me first..." Fear drove him to lie, words never slowing as he'd been sent into a state of panic.