Firefly Ravine the north remembers

@Xan! Set for the 23rd of February!

 
It was as he slipped away from his interaction with Nemesis and Astrid that the brute decided that it was time for him to scout out the lands near Teaghlaigh. With the threat of the other pack still loomed overhead, despite the lack of action on either of the pack's part, and Atshen felt that it was his time to investigate the area for himself. He started off quickly, darting from his mother's woods with vigor as motivation drew him forward. Such urgency in his stride caused his healing wounds to break. Though this happened suddenly, Atshen noticed the minute that the pain flared. He halted abruptly and gritted his teeth, feeling a hot flash throb from every wound that littered his body. 

It was unlike Atshen's nature to give up, especially when it came to something as simple as what he thought to be just a few scratches. Instead of turning tail, the brute pressed on and accommodated his path for a gait that did not rise any pain. 

A day or so past in his tracking and as he had wandered, he had somehow diverged to the right as if he were heading to Drageda. Though he could have sworn that he was still following the scent of a Teaghlaigh wolf, Atshen somehow had driven himself in the wrong direction. He made this realization as he entered the territory that was the ravine-split territory. Perplexed, Atshen paused suddenly as he sniffed the air in an attempt to regain the trail he had been following.

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‘SUP, BROSKI

Since settling into the coastal pack, the yearling hadn’t traveled beyond its boundaries. More often than not he’d kept to himself, but always had he found a place to hide away in without leaving the territory. In the early evening, however, he’d found himself heading towards the outskirts of Drageda’s claim, and then beyond even that. He knew not where he was going, nor could he find it within himself to care, but continued onward anyways. Every so often, the boy had stopped and marked the path on which he trekked, leaving behind for himself reminders so that he might not get lost whenever it came time to return. Perhaps he had done it for Kendra, too, so that she might not worry if it was discovered that he’d gone missing.

After wandering for several hours straight, Alexander found himself traveling downwards, where he then was met by a river. Without a care, the water raced onward, following the same path that it had traveled for years already, and would continue to travel for many more. Trailing along the water’s edge, he looked around quite often until, eventually, his body came to a complete stop. A section of the river where the current was far less vigorous had been found, and so across he’d gone, causing quite a ruckus as he splashed his way over to dry land; there he pulled himself out and shook his coat free of the loose droplets. A break was desired, a mere moment for him to recollect himself, but such was a luxury that fate could not grant him. For in with the winds there came a scent, clearly belonging to another wolf, whose homeland’s odour clung to him like a wet shirt—Blackfeather.

Hardly a second had managed to slip by before the albino was back up on his feet and sprinting across the earth, expression hardened and muscles tensed. The wolf that had been detected was definitely not Cicero, nor any of the faces that he’d actually be happy to see. Curious, he kept up his pace until a dark mass was spotted in the distance, as which point he slowed to an eventual stop, remaining several meters away from the stranger. He was younger, the shadow-cloaked figure, with eyes that reminded the young Apaata of his father. To not jump to conclusions became difficult, though he somehow refrained from blurting out something about the other male’s appearance. Instead, he asked, “Who are you?” He wanted to ask who sent you, too, but decided against it for the time being.

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WASSUP BRUH

Atshen was absorbed in the scents of the territory as the pale-haired Kru cleared the land that laid between them. An exotic scent wafted by the midnight-haired Silencer as he contemplated where he was, and soon enough Atshen realized that the newer scent was becoming stronger with every moment that passed. Turning his attention to the barren territory before him, the easily Silencer caught sight of the other's nearing form. Out of instinct, he stiffened and raised himself to full height, mirroring his brother's motion. 

At first glance, Atshen had been convinced that it had been his father prowling towards him, yet, upon further inspection, it appeared as though this was not the case. Atshen realized quickly that the main giveaway was that this wolf did not smell of the forest. Instead, this male's odor embodied of the coast-- a scent that Atshen had not yet sampled. He gave the air a sniff again as if committing the scent with the area. 

A dark line formed on Atshen's brow as Xan called in his direction. Being one never really to answer a stranger's question outright, the child took a bold step towards Xan and lifted his tail. "Who are you?" He asked in his characteristic monotone.

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When a question was asked, the yearling expected and immediate answer. It mattered not if he had known the individual all his life or was only just meeting them for the first time, he still felt as if they should speak when spoken to. Yet, the Blackfeather wolf hadn’t done so, which irritated Alexander. Instead, the younger male had taken a step towards him; normally, he wouldn’t have cared, but the way Atshen’s tail had risen with the step set him off. Having always been in possession of a rather short temper, it was no surprise when he pushed his ears forward and raised his own tail, all whilst his lips were pulled back in a snarl. He had felt fear before, he had even allowed for himself to be humiliated, but never would he experience either of those things again. If that meant having to put a younger wolf in their place, then so be it—even if it was one of his younger siblings, though he’d yet to realize that.

A step of his own was taken towards his little brother, the snarl having been reined in and replaced by an unwavering glare. “I asked first, so give me an answer—now,” he commanded, voice throaty. Whilst Kove could control himself and remain calm in even the most chaotic of situations, his eldest son could not. Like many members of the Apaata family that had come before him, the albino was hot-headed and, at times, impulsive. Although he’d managed to find a way to better control himself in certain situations, to be what he perceived as challenged by a youth was an occurrence during which he could not reason with himself.

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Atshen's movements were mirrored by his pale-furred brethren, and in response, he felt himself tense as he looked on. If Atshen had a stronger sense of common knowledge about him, then perhaps he would have just answered Alexandar's question. But, Atshen was both proud and brash in nature; never truly thinking out any consequences before speaking. This situation was a prime example of how he was wired. 

He did not answer the other's demands, and instead, he lingered as his molten-like gaze bore into the Kru.

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Tabletop thread is here. Xan landed a hit.

The demand was met with silence, which further angered the yearling. His lips were pulled back to reveal the teeth so often hidden behind them, followed shortly by a growl. He knew the male was a child of the woods, but he’d yet to confirm his suspicions and recognize Atshen as his brother, thus resulting in him feeling no need to hold back. Without a second thought, Xan bounded towards the younger wolf, ears flat and jaws opening. Once there was little space left between them, he’d slowed, only to lurch forward immediately afterward with the intention of wrapping his jaws around his brother’s neck.
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Atshen landed a hit, too!

Their duel began as Xan advanced and Atshen did not move to meet half way. Instead, he held his ground as he watched the other wolf advance. It was as observed that he scrambled to formulate a plan about how he would retaliate the other's assault. The Kru launched himself, and Atshen quickly shuffled, aiming so that the other wolf could land his blow onto his shoulder. As Xan made contact, Atshen lunged with gritted teeth, only parting them when he was close enough to tear into the Kru's shoulder.

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Xan got another hit! Two hits in a row… this must be a bad omen, lmaooo.

Although he hadn’t hit his mark, the feeling of his teeth closing down around flesh satisfied him. It was the other boy’s shoulder that he’d managed to grab hold of, and perhaps he would have held tight had it not been for the pain that then tore through his own. Releasing the shadow, Alexander turned his head and began snapping at his brother, aiming for any part of his face that could be reached. Whilst he preferred more damaging attacks, he knew that he needed to rid himself of the child’s jaws before he could do anything else.

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Landed a hit again... with the same number. That looks super sketchy. .___.

Atshen held on to the best of his ability, prizing the flesh that lingered within the grasp of his fangs. But, eventually, pain flared from a blow that Xan delivered to his muzzle. Stumbling back a step, Atshen blinked heavily in an attempt to get a hold of his standing. Within less of a beat of blinking and stabilization, the brute of a man lifted his paw and swung at Xan, hoping to strike the other's cheek.

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Another hit... I can feel the bad luck coming, omfg.

The aimless snapping proved itself as being a good choice, teeth once again connecting with the other male’s flesh. With his shoulder freed he intended to put some distance between himself and Atshen, but hadn’t managed to move away quickly enough. Not even a full step backwards was taken before he felt a paw connect with the side of his face, which left him momentarily stunned. For a second, he could only stand there and stare at his opponent, almost as if he were questioning whether or not that had actually just happened. After getting over his shock the yearling charged forward, attempting to ram his shoulder into the Blackfeather wolf.

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A miss for me!

The stunning of his opponent gave Atshen an opportunity to assess the situation quickly, but, even with this time, Atshen found that he had been slow. Xan moved forward with the intensity of a battering ram, leaving Atshen to scramble at the last moment. It was as he attempted to meet his pale brother half way that the other collided with him, causing Atshen to stumble with a sidestep to the side.

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A hit! I'll start preparing my funeral now, lmao.

As Xan’s shoulder made contact, he felt the recoil. A pain shot through him—it would definitely leave a bruise—but that didn’t keep him from making another attack. Without missing a beat, he turned his body to face his younger brother and then reared up onto his hind legs, hoping to slam his forelimbs down where the boy’s neck met his back. It was a favoured move of his, definitely overused, but not ineffective.

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A hit!

Atshen was in a tricky conundrum, and yet, he found himself thinking quicker as the pain of his brother's blows shot through him. Seeing an advantage as Xan reared, Atshen lunged forward to bite at the other's underbelly with hopes of latching one as he crashed down upon his back. Feeling the weight of Xan crash upon him, Atshen stood rigid in an attempt to hold his own as he bit down. It was only a matter of time until Atshen would buckle under the other's impressive weight.

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Final hit! I would like to thank the academy, all of the dice in the world, and my cat for giving me some good luck. ✧٩(•́⌄•́๑)

To expose his underside as he had might not have been the smartest of moves, but the pros outweighed the cons. His plans went smoothly as he felt himself land on the other, the only bump in the road being the bite to his underbelly. Through gritted teeth, the yearling growled, but otherwise ignored the searing pain in favour of putting as much of his weight on his brother as he could. He wanted to shove the other to the ground, to make him submit so that he might then realize the mistake made by not giving an answer when ordered to speak.

Should he succeed in forcing the other boy to the ground, Xan would linger over him with bared teeth. Again, he asked, “What is your name?” and expected an immediate answer. Though, at that point, he felt as if he might already have the answer.

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Despite his best efforts, it seemed as if Xan and (literally) come out on top. Such a fact angered Atshen greatly, causing him to writhe under the snow-pelted wolf. It was with this victory that the question that had been asked was repeated and Atshen growled in response, tipping his head back in an attempt to lock eyes with the other. Even if he had been bested, Atshen was still convinced that he was the top wolf of this pair. 

"Atshen," he replied steadily, his tail lashing as he attempted to break free.

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The writhing of the child only made Xan all the more determined to keep him down, needing to prove a point. With each day that passed, he grew closer and closer to his goal of becoming the best warrior out there, and so he wasn’t about to let some kid come along and rebel against him. Again, he bared his teeth, only this time it was followed by a few snaps in Atshen’s direction; he had no intention of actually making contact, he merely wished to control the situation. Yet, as the name was spoken, the hints of anger still lingering within his expression disappeared, replaced by furrowed brows. “Atshen?” he repeated back, not sure whether or not he could believe it. “Kove and Nemesis’ son?” He knew the names of his siblings, but not the faces that they belonged to. Now, it seemed, he would have at least one face to put to a name, so perhaps he wasn’t the worst older brother out there.

Removing himself from his position over the boy, Xan watched him for a moment or two before saying, “Nice to see you didn’t stay a useless lump of fur.” He wondered, briefly, if his other siblings could also hold their own in battle; whether or not they even lived, still, crossed his mind, but he bothered not with asking. “I’m Xan, Kove’s son,” the albino told him, figuring he might as well introduce himself, too. “Guess you’re one of my younger brothers. Too bad you didn’t start with that.” A comment about the other boy’s loss lingered on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t let it slip out.

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Despite the fact that he was up a creek without a paddle, Atshen did not panic. Instead, he wriggled to the best of his ability as his answer hung in the air and it was in his attempt to remove himself from the situation that an unexpected response arose. As quickly as the inquiry slipped into the conversation, Atshen halted his efforts in escaping as he peered up to the other wolf. Confusion ran rampant upon his young features, yet, he did not say anything. His confusion only furthered as the Kru willingly removed himself from his position on top to free the shadow. Slipping a pace away from where he had been brought down, Atshen kept his eyes on the pale wolf as he moved, as he did not know what to expect to come from the other.  He shook himself as he attempted to rid himself of both the gathered debris on his pelt and the creeping suspicion that gripped him uneasily. But as he moved Xan explained his disbelief further, and the statement caused Atshen to halt suddenly as he realized what Xan had realized. He looked to the warrior with disbelief for a moment, as if not believing he was related to such a skilled fighter. This occurrence was all much more different than when Xan's daughter had come to the borders-- after all, she had not proved herself of any worth in his eyes. But Xan? He had proved himself to be quite impressive in the young boy's eyes. 

"Xan." The shadow echoed, his tone thoughtful as if he were committing the name to memory. Had it been any other family member, Atshen would have turned tail without a care. But this? This was a sibling that rivaled his skill, and that could potentially teach him about fighting. He felt a sudden kinship with this wolf, a feeling that he had honestly never felt before. "You are impressive, brother," never being a wolf to compliment, Atshen found it odd to admire something in another. Somehow it felt right in light of the situation. He fell silent, watching the wolf before him carefully, and waiting for what would happen next.

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Once the boy was freed, Alexander watched him slip away, putting between them some distance. He wasn’t the least bit bothered by that, however, for the confusion that had taken over the kid’s face told him everything that he needed to know; the pieces hadn’t fallen into place as quickly for his brother as they had for him. It wasn’t something that would be held against him, of course, though his loss might. With the yearling being as he was, it wouldn’t be overly surprising if he brought it up again, should their paths cross in the future. Thankfully, the topic was dropped for the time being as he favoured the idea of exchanging some words with his younger sibling more than bragging—he did, however, smirk the second a compliment was given. Neither his thanks nor a return of such kind words was spoken, though. The only thing to be given, at first, was a mere nod of his head.

Rather than closing the distance between them, Xan remained where he had stopped, watching his brother. “You could use some improvement. Who’s training you?” he asked, wondering if Damien had decided to teach another Apaata—though saying another was being kind, given how well things had gone between the Spiderling and albino. Before the memories could resurface, he spoke again, asking, “How’s dad?” He had nearly forgotten to ask, but was glad to have remembered. If he were to walk away from the meeting without first making an effort to check on his father, he knew that he would eventually be pulled back to the woods in order to assure himself that everything was fine.

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Atshen felt himself recoil internally to what Xan offered in response to his praise. Despite these foreign feelings, his gaze did not waver from his snow-furred sibling. Instead, his expression grew dark. "I've taught myself," he said, the elaborations of his accomplishments hanging on the tip of his tongue. There were so many achievements that the youth could have spoken on, but one, in particular, attempted to arise. Wondering just how his brother would react, and wishing to get some praise from the Kru, Atshen spoke on it. "I killed a child once and brought it's head back to mother." A smirk settled upon his lips once he had spoken, mentally patting himself on the pack as he looked to the other. 

The question of father followed, and Atshen shrugged. "He's Dad," he replied, his tone indifferent. Despite Kove's best efforts, they had never really clicked as Atshen and Nemesis had. Atshen did not fault himself about this, nor did he blame his father. The two were just too different, he supposed.

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Neither surprise nor a look of knowing passed through his features. He held an expression of neutrality, though a frown tugged at the corners of his lips, threatening to reveal itself. Without missing a beat, he said, “You need someone to train you.” Whilst the comment was likely to come off as being an insult, his intentions were to do anything but. The boy was his brother and so a part of Xan wanted to see him succeed; never would he be the best, of course, for that title was to be filled by the albino himself. Nevertheless, he did hope to see his brother improve, but doubted that he ever would if a teacher was never obtained. “Learning on your own is fine at first, but you eventually reach a point where you need someone with more experience to share what they know,” he explained. “You’ll never beat me if you don’t find someone to train with you.” Right then, the phantom of a smirk flitted across his face, the arrogance of his youth shining through.

With Atshen’s next words there came a smirk of his own, but his brother was without a reaction. He would have been impressed—may have even doled out a compliment—if not for one word: child. “You killed a kid,” he parroted back, snorting. “Do you think I’d be impressed by something like that? Did it even put up a fight?” Alexander did not pity the life that had been taken, nor did he care to hear the details of the murder. All he cared about was the fact that his brother—he was reconsidering his decision to accept him as a sibling now—had seemed to be proud of himself for the simple task of killing a small, helpless creature. “Anyone can kill a kid—other children can kill kids,” stated the Inuk, brushing off Atshen’s accomplishment. “Tell me when you’ve killed an adult, and then I’ll be impressed.” Until then, he would view the younger male as nothing more than the same lump of fur that the yearling had once despised.

Regarding his father, he responded with a stiff nod, figuring that the answer was good enough. As long as the elder northerner was still alive, then he was probably doing just fine. The finer details of his life—his hobbies, his thoughts, and so on—weren’t something that Alexander was particularly interested in delving into, so as basic of a response received was easy to accept.

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A sense of irritation began to collect in the depths of his chest, threatening to surface his emotionless expression. Despite the buildup, Atshen remained neutral in his expression as he looked to his snow-coated sibling. "And just where do you expect me to find such a figure?" he replied with a snap, his ears pacing towards the forefront of his crown as he looked to the albino. "There aren't any good fighters in the woods." Despite the fact that this was a lie, Atshen attempted to persuade Xan otherwise. There was a deep-rooted fantasy that he had conjured, one which the Kru himself would offer his fighting skills to the Silencer. Despite this, he acted oblivious to his own feelings in hopes that Xan would come to these conclusions on his own. 

The tone of their conversation shifted drastically to what Atshen expected a moment in which he would take in the other's phrase. Finding himself somewhat blinded by it all, Atshen blinked up to his elder sibling as his mind raced to find a conclusion that would appease the Kru. "I was a child, too," he explained hastily, a small hint of worry flavouring his characteristically bland tone. "He was younger, but not by far." Though his fight with Bramble had been easy, it wasn't as though Atshen had been many months older. He waited then, hoping that this had been enough to invited back into Xan's good graces.

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Alexander had left the woods, but he could not speak badly of it. Nor could he disregard the talent that lived within its shadows, knowing well of the skills many members possessed when it came to battle. “Liar,” the yearling declared immediately after the final statement had left his brother’s mouth. “There are plenty of wolves in Blackfeather that could train you—even dad could.” Though, personally, he would never take the time to learn from Kove. The elder Inuk was a guardian of the woods, a defensive fighter whereas the albino was almost strictly offensive. He could sort of see the same in his little brother, though, at first, he hadn’t wanted to admit that. “I’d offer to teach you a thing or two, but I’m not traveling all the way to the woods constantly just for you. Brother or not, that’s too far of a trip to make for one wolf,” he said with a shrug. Had someone else wanted him to travel there—Kendra, for whatever reason, or Potema—there was a good chance that he might have gone, but there was no way in hell he’d leave Kendra alone regularly just to teach a kid something.

The words came fast, a hint of something in the younger male’s tone that nearly made Xan smirk. He held back from doing so, however, and instead went on to say, “Kids are fragile. They break easily, so there’s no reason to celebrate after killing one.” He knew that any child could be broken with ease, for he had seen how small they are at birth, and then how they grow. In fact, there had been a time when he’d considered killing a child—one of his younger siblings, actually—out of anger, knowing that he’d be able to do so without any struggle; the constant presence of his father and Nemesis, not to mention what he’d been dealing with back then, had kept him from making his wish for their deaths come true. “Learn to fight better, kill an adult, and then we can celebrate,” added the boy, his mind set in stone. “Or don’t you think you can do that?” A challenge. For as quick as he was to accept them, he could present them, too. He was curious to see how Atshen might react to the words, though the interest was kept hidden from his face.

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Atshen does not flinch when he is accused of being a liar and instead meets the Inuit man with a half-hearted roll of his fire-like eyes. In the Silencer's opinion, there is only one individual within the Brotherhood that he deems worthy of teaching him. Since a young age, he has looked up to the Executioner, but, not in the manner that he looks upon Xan. But, even with Miraak in the picture, Atshen knows that it is only Xan that can train him to his full potential. But, as their conversation progressed to the next tangent, it appeared as though Xan shared the same sentiments in regards to Atshen. 

Though disappointed by the Kru's rejection, Atshen does not show it. Instead, he masked himself with his charismatically stoic facade. Feeling something shift within him at that moment, tarnishing his perspective on the other, Atshen finds himself at a spot where he is no longer as invested in the conversation as he had previously been. It was evident that there was a difference between the men and Xan didn't feel as strongly as Atshen had for him. Though disappointing, Atshen was relieved that he didn't waste more energy groveling at his sibling's paws.

When the opportune moment for Atshen's reply was upon them, and though the Silencer had not been listening as carefully, he responded with a halfhearted: "I will." Licking his chops out of a sudden wave of disinterest, he looked to his sibling without the investment he had previously felt for this exchange.