Fox's Glade there will be ghosts in the dark and voices in the air

@Ecael <3

The aphotic soul had found comfort in the seclusion of the meadow. He had searched for it when he’d found himself struggling with his acceptance into the valley pack and had returned again to see if he could sight the sacred black coyote Inlé. Venturing in search of signs had never truly imparted such things on the thief; Tadec found that these harbingers arrived only when they saw fit. What was he but a humble vessel for their work? Knowing what he did still did not deter him from seeking out answers to the questions that darted about within his mind like firing cannons at sea.
 
The world was quiet on the night that he had stolen away to the glade; stars glittered overhead through a tangle of dark clouds promising more snow to fall before spring would finally reveal herself. The moon stretched with light that spread across a navy backdrop, offering solitude and lucent means for venturing figures such as himself. Tadec crept into the dale, carefully searching for signs of foxes. His lantern gaze rolled keenly across his surroundings until he had deemed his path a suitable one to ensure his safety. Then, the halfling shirked further into the quiet territory.

There was something comforting about the night. Ecael had always been a creature who favoured the darkness, choosing to hide away until the sun had set and the land was lit by faintest moonlight. It was then she prowled, slinking through shadow of unfamiliar woodland and eager to maintain her secrecy.

She rarely stayed in the same place long, purely because she didn't want to be seen. Ecael saw the way the purebloods looked at her, at times with distaste and others with pity, and it insensed her. She'd long since realised that there was no place for her among them - wolves and coyotes alike - and as such, was destined to wander from place to place with no care for anyone but herself until the black coyote of Inlé chose to call her name.

A vixen barked and scurried away somewhere among the foliage, and Ecael acknowledged the noise with a simple cant of an obsidian lobe. She pressed on in pursuit of the mouse that continued to evade her, her nose roving the leaf litter as she snuffled at the earth in search of its freshest trail. With the discovery of the hollow that her snack had likely disappeared into, the sterling hybrid growled softly in defeat as she turned away with a furrowed brow.

She lifted her head and stopped abruptly as her gaze found the dark, narrow features and burnished eyes of someone she recognised immediately. "Mouse gone," she muttered aloud for Tadec to hear, her frustration suddenly intensified as she recalled their differing opinions on their shared blood, "I find rat instead."

One would only assume that a master in the art of such crafts could be the only thing to have found its way so close to the dark young Prince. Still, once his gaze locked to her own, the limber thief was latched rigidly to the earth. The stretch of his dark legs was extended by full, leaving him no room to spring from his place and vault into the brush. The sharp lash of her tongue was like a hot iron, and Tadec curled his dark lips to reveal jagged fangs. The hairs that were adorned in fiery copper stood rigidly and danced like flames along his shoulders and back. It had taken her some short while, but Ecael had found him, and the half-blooded creature was alive with fearful regret; he had done nothing to conceal himself from that land.
 
“Elil,” he hissed to her with an astonished expression. The discomfit that had latched hold of him upon seeing her was still wickedly persistent. Tadec longed to shed his dark coat and wash away with the melting snow. Oh, how the azure of her gaze did scorn him. The fire-licked thief shook his head and huffed through his nose. “What doing, Ecael?” he asked of her in the common Hedgerow.
 
“Dayn veth zyhl ma?”

Her brother reacted to her presence as expected, and Ecael remained indifferent. The dark hybrid peered through the darkness at her, meeting her sharp stare and revealing his distaste in the backward curl of lips. He bore his fangs and she maintained her cool stare, regarding his response with an unimpressed flick of a raven lobe. 

He spoke in their mother tongue, and finally the sterling coywolf's expression altered only slightly. Recognition, something akin to fondness, glimmered in her crystal eyes for the fleetest moment before she registered what the word meant - enemy. It was then that she frowned, brow furrowing until her eyes narrowed to fierce slits, and she hissed through bared teeth: "Nahl-nyt." To Ecael, there was no greater insult. She and Tadec had spat on one another's differing opinion of their bloodline and she thought him tharn, but never her enemy. Foolish as he was, he would always remain her family.

Peppered tail lashed with irritation at her hocks, and she breathed deep in attempt to steel herself against the pressing desire to clack her teeth at Tadec for insulting her. "No," the trickster told him coolly, "not kill. Nahl léaones." It was not her place to choose when her brother would die but if the dark coyote willed it of her, then Ecael would see it through. As it was, she'd happened across him purely by chance and Inlé called for no one. 

The crow watched as her face found the expression of cognition, and he was momentarily astonished that her strict façade would fade away. Before he had chance to remark, she had lashed at him with a whip of her polar gaze, causing him to wither. The thief forced a reminder into his own train of thought – she is your sister. The burning of his relation fought the retort that had risen in his throat and Tadec pulled his crown upward, making for a move to seem too tasked to care. Her return was spoken in the language he knew well, and his shoulders sagged with relief in her admittance. Ecael was not there to kill him but would instead leave his death to the Black Coyote. It was as it should have been. Perhaps, he had not intended to speak so ill of her. She had surprised him, and he was not sound in his responses to the silver snake. Even then, having found her again, her crystal gaze held him for seconds too long.
 
Shaking his crown, the moonlighter issued a sigh and then fixed her with the softly burning embers of his gaze. “Why here? Tiel’c?” the boy asked with a furrowed brow. It had been Tadec’s plan to hunt the wolf down and end his life for what he had done – what the dark boy knew he had done. If his father was anywhere in the wilds, Tadec was prepared to kill him, or offer his own life to the Black Coyote in an attempt. Ecael would not have been fond of this mindset, but Tadec was eager to see if she would release any information to him on their shared blood.

She watched him slacken noticeably and in response, he silver coywolf twitched her whiskers and allowed herself to relax. Her brother would not harm her, this much she was sure, but still she fixed him with a sharp stare filled with suspicion. 

Her feelings toward Tadec had always been torn. Where she longed to shed the coyote in her blood to be enirely wolf as their father before them, her dark brother favoured the impurities of the world. He held a fondness for weakness and where she looked down on it, saw strength where she could not. Their disgreement put distance between them, though this alone was not the reason behind their seperation. 

Ecael nodded in response to Tadec's question, though she knew his reasons for seeking their sire were entirely different. She'd adored her father since before she could remember and while he could have been responsible for her mother's murder (why else would he flee the scene?), the young hybrid refused to believe him capable of such an act. Ecael did her best not to dwell on the memory of Ishtari's death, but she longed to piece together the puzzle and felt that she and her litter-mates deserved to know the truth. If Tiel'c hadn't committed the crime himself, he clearly knew something.

"Not find," Ecael said with a deep frown, a large black ear pricking atop her fine crown as she studied Tadec's sharp features. She noted the furrowing of his brow, the clear distaste he still held for their sire, but did not address it. "Lose trail. Tarli lay hraray."

The cagey look in the crystal blue of her eyes cut through his coat and caused his flesh to rise. The coywolf did his best to make his nimble limbs lax, at ease, but Ecael was so close. He could scent the travels that had raveled and interwoven with her coat. She had ventured as long as he had, after all, and had crossed many perilous territories. Tadec knew that he should have treated her with more welcome. They shared blood, after all. Even though the young crow did not feel a sense of closeness with her – not as he should – she was still very much a part of him.
 
Ecael admitted that she had lost the trail of their father. The thief did not hesitate to allow a smirk to crinkle his thin muzzle. The soft burn of his gaze danced with a flicker of delight before returning to their wide and watchful stare. He had lost the scent of the wolf Tiel’c many weeks back, but he did not allow this information to pass between them. She needn’t know that he had been hunting the man; it would do no good to calm their nerves.
 
“Quick limbs do not make for a quick mind,” he chided with a small tsk tsk noise and a shake of his head. It was meant as a gesture of humor against the wolf who had created them. While Tiel’c may have been fast on his striding limbs, Tadec believed that he had made too many grave mistakes. Then, his gaze locked with her own, interested suddenly. “Many wolves here. Ecael would like it,” he said with a soft nod. It had provided him with some moderate difficulty, but he had found Indra and he was pleased with the tailless woman.

While his initial greeting has vexed her, part of her understood his frostiness. While they were linked by blood and likely loved one another by this fact alone, their relationship had always been a rocky one. Ecael could not recall a time that they'd ever agreed; if she said black, Tadec would say white. Their opinions were entirely different, even throughout childhood. While they didn't agree with one another, there was a quiet respect that hung over them, and she was content to maintain this.

He mocked their father, a humorous prodding at her on Tadec's part against the sibling who'd favoured their male parent from the start. She briefly thrust her raven ears back then, noting the tease and feeling that he was fishing for a reaction that she was unwilling to spit back at him. Instead, she remained silent until the topic changed, when she rolled a silver shoulder in a lazy shrug. "Many scents," Ecael acknowledged with a nod, "Tadec happy?"

Tadec happy?
 
The question flew to him and cast his head back, recoiling sharply, ears flattening to his narrow crown. The smoky creature could not have specified what it was that had caused such a reaction, but her words did take him aback. The thief peered at her with a guarded stare – the orange of his gaze flickered over her frame and rested squarely on the dark swatch that painted her muzzle. Tadec wanted to respond with a positive yes. Somehow, his tongue did not allow for such an answer, and he gritted his teeth together out of frustration for his own willpower. The crow did not want for her to think that he had failed to craft a life in which he was pleased, but Tadec truly did not know if he was happy.
 
“Nahl,” he answered her in their native tongue. The timbre of his voice had weakened some, but he bolstered his resolve with a quick shudder of his frame. “Tadec will need time. Tadec needs to find home for Tadec,” he tried to elaborate, but the dark young man struggled with the formation of the words. It was a way of saying that he would not be truly pleased until he had fashioned a place for himself where he was comfortable; he could not do it for others, and he could not abide by their rules. He wondered quietly if Ecael would feel similarly.