Kerberos did not particularly like toting his memento around with him every where, the salty tang of the seaweed was enough to make him salivate around the swathe which cradled and protected the precious pearl within it that hung between his jaws, likely, comically. Yet, he would never risk burying it. For one, there was no guarantee he would be able to find his way back, and two he did not wish to initiate temptation of a curious creature looking for a free meal. Though the pearl was worthless -- it served no purpose to any creature: it could not be eaten, it could not be chewed, it was little more than a pretty decoration -- it was priceless to Kerberos who guarded it as he guarded his heart; with careful precision. The lingering taste of the delicacy of the sea merely served as a temptation. It took effort not to eat the seaweed, the urge of which was fought nearly everyday. If he ate the seaweed…what would he use to carry his gem? Other leaves would not do. Pieces of the Sea or protect the gift of the Sea. To Kerberos there was nothing that made more logical sense. Willfully, he ignored the temptation and carried on.
There was a certain degree of disorientation that accompanied being in foreign lands. How easy it would be to get lost…not that, admittedly, Kerberos had much of a specific path in mind. He only knew that here, where ever, exactly, here was, where Atka wanted him; and Kerberos was devoted unquestioningly to Atka and the Sea. Kerberos believed in loyalty. Loyalty to faith, to home, to family. It was early morning when the Aok boy rose, groggily to his paws, shaking the sleep from his head, bright sea-green eyes closing as a yawn overtook him. Scooping his package up he continued forward, hesitating when he found himself in what he thought to be hot springs. He could feel the damp heat twine through the tendrils of his sand colored fur, frosted with dried salt water that he could not bring himself to wash off. Hesitantly, he pushed forward, careful to avoid that water that would give him an unwanted, fresh water bath.
The sooner he got out of the damp, suffocating heat, the better.
this used to be the place i ran towhenever i was in need
of a friend
[size=3]why did it have to end[/size]
It was strange being in a pack that he hadn’t been born into. It wasn’t something he had ever thought would happen, though he did hope that it would end up turning out for the best for all of them that had made the journey here. Though he was usually Julooke’s almost constant shadow, today was not one of those days. He knew that he needed to learn the paths that he could and couldn’t travel on his own and rather than be a burden to anyone (even though his sister always assured him that he was not a burden), he opted to do this exploring entirely on his own. He would have to rely even more on his senses that actually worked; scent, hearing and touch. Surely if he was careful, he wouldn’t end up getting himself utterly lost.
Following along a path he’d found purely by touch alone, he carefully made his way along it, pausing to rub his shoulder or side against random trees and rocks so that he’d be able to find his way back. He’d told his sister that he was going for a walk and promised to call for her if he got lost or needed help. He understood her hesitance to letting him go by himself but he assured her that he would be alright. The young male just needed some time to himself for a little bit. He’d parted from her company after giving her a loving and reassuring nuzzle, then set out to explore on his own.
Apparently he hadn’t been all that far from the borders because he soon found himself reaching them. He knew this purely by scent; the pack scent markings showing the rest of the world that this part of the territory belonged to the Dragonwatchers. Normally he would have stopped at the borders, turned around and gone another direction within the territory. But he didn’t this time. Instead, he continued walking, passing the scent markers and continuing on his way. He was careful as to where he set his paws, moving slowly. He could feel the dampness and heat, causing him to stop in his tracks. In that moment, thoughts of his father hit him like a ton of bricks. He remembered the hot springs near Sterrunvuur that his father had taken him to once.
Ears instantly slicked back tightly against his head and his tail snaked up partially between his legs. A pitiful whine slid forth from him. It was like a mad rush of emotions came flooding forward. Emotions that he had been keeping locked away ever since the death of his father. It was all hitting him like a ton of bricks. It hurt. All of it just really hurt in that moment and he wanted it to go back to being locked away. He hadn’t been living his life, just merely existing. Although that was clearly no way to go through life, it was what had been working for him. Until that very moment. He could feel the walls inside crumbling. He could feel the hurt, the pain, the sheer loss all come crashing forward whether he wanted it to or not. Another whine escaped from him. This one was louder than the first and he could feel his legs wanting to buckle beneath him.
There had come a point, sooner than Kerberos would have liked -- though when did things ever go how they were expected to? -- he had to pause, feeling the heat move through his salt water frosted fur as heated fingers, and gingerly set his precious (tokio had a lord of the rings moment, ngl) cargo at his paws, so he could effectively let out a loud and heavy pant. The expel of heat from his body was relieving. Though this should have been something he was, some what, used to for there were always those moments when the beach was humid and damp from a summer storm the night before; but he wasn’t. Kerberos was aware that this ‘rest’ was eating up valuable traveling time, but it was still early. Not to mention, it wasn’t as if he had a specific time frame to follow. He had no where to be. While this felt quite bizarre to the Aok boy, he chalked it up as a learning experience provided by the ever present and watchful Atka. It was not the loneliness that bothered Kerberos. On the contrary, he was used to solitude. He liked solitude. His social skills were still a severe work in progress and traveling alone, such as he’d done since he’d said goodbye to the Bay, let Kerberos fall back into a comfortable pattern. Breaking out of his shell had been….painful, forcing himself to be a social butterfly, to be more than a shadow; because even the solitary Kerberos wanted to be seen and (on occasion), heard. Claming back up (so to speak) would be easy but did he really want to let all his progress be for nothing? No. Too much effort had spent breaking his mythical, shadow like existence. He was no longer Kerberos the “crybaby”, nor was he Kerberos the “weak”. It was Atka that had lured him out of his shell, obviously, she expected him to continue with his progress. He was like fixing a broken car -- he took work, patience, and love. Some days, he was stubborn and set in his ways, but he would accomplish it. Because she was nurturing him too. For her.
A noise, soft carried along the rising tendrils of steam, broke Kerberos out of his train of thoughts. Startled, the
Nereides-KesukAok boy peered around him, frosted hackles the color of wet sand bristling with uncertainty. Bright, sea-green eyes saw nothing, and Kerberos had just managed to convince himself that it had been a bird flying over head, or the squeal of a rodent, when he heard it again. Louder, this time. Distinguishable as a whine, canine. Ears trust forward atop his skull as a shadowy shape became visible through the steam which worked to veil the Greek’s vision. Ears slicked back to half mast atop his skull, as Kerberos ghosted forward a step, dithering upon his internal hesitation. Regardless of the progress he’d made, Kerberos still hadn’t exactly (at all) broken himself out of the ‘Do Not Speak First’ rule he had somehow established as a child. It was hard to force himself to do such now, akin to him trying to knock down a skyscraper with just his body. Atka, however, was the ever helpful wrecking ball, the Bear God giving him a spiritual nudge forward. She did not speak to him. She needn’t. Her message was clear enough. Help,
“H-hey!” Kerberos shook off the barbed wire of tension that constructed around his lungs. “Hey,” He tried again, grateful that he did not stutter a second time. “are you…okay?” Kerberos inquired.
this used to be the place i ran towhenever i was in need
of a friend
[size=3]why did it have to end[/size]
Logically, he knew that it wasn’t possible to be at the hot springs near Sterrenvuur. The group had traveled for far too long for it to be that same hot springs area. Plus the smells were different here. But that didn’t stop the absolute flood of memories and emotions from washing over him, driving him to his knees in a sense. His legs wanted to buckle beneath him, to drive him to the ground, to force him to deal with the sudden flooding of emotions. Yildun tried to fight it. He’d been fighting it for months now. But it was turning into a desperately losing battle. The two cries that had already escaped from him was proof of that. Did that mean that he was going to have to face the tears, too? “Please no…” he quietly whimpered to himself. He wasn’t ready to face the tears, to face all these emotions.
He was just about ready to give in, to let his legs buckle beneath him, when he suddenly stiffened at the sound of a voice calling out to him. Boyish head turned in the direction the sound of the voice had come from as sightless eyes saw nothing. He was tense in that moment, knowing full well that if he were attacked that he would be helpless against it, especially since he had been so lost in the emotions flooding through him that he hadn’t realized anyone else was near to begin with. “I… I’m sorry if I’m trespassing,” he finally managed to get himself to say in response. He was already trying to think of which direction he had come from so that he could backtrack.
And then it happened, without warning. Even though he was tense from head to toe, his legs buckled beneath him. The scent of the hot springs here became overwhelming and the flooding of emotions was just too much weight to bear. Crumbling to the ground, the young male struggled hard to not let his tears flow. It was a losing battle, though, and soon salty tears began to trickle from his sightless, milky colored eyes. “I’m sorry…” he whimpered through the sobs that had quickly taken over his entire body.
Helpless was not something that Kerberos liked to feel; it was a dreading, horrible feeling watching something happen knowing that there was nothing he could do in his power to stop it. He had experienced it when he was mere two months old -- though he remembered very, very little of his life prior to Shearwater Bay -- he had experienced it when Nanuq had left the bay, had felt it grip him when Lecter had taunted him with the truth of his parentage (though Kerberos was insanely glad that Lecter did not acknowledge him as a son). Helpless was what Kerberos felt as the other boy came into view. He was the color of pale silver, patterned with charcoal freckles -- unusual, in Kerberos’ mind -- but it was his eyes that had drawn Kerberos’ fascination and intrigue, despite that he was sure he was being rather insensitive. They were milky, and Kerberos understood within the next few fractions of seconds that he was blind. Sea-green eyes moved to stare at the other boy’s nose as he babbled an apology about trespassing. Kerberos’ ears slicked back to sit at half mast atop his skull as he peered around and behind him, fairly sure that he wasn’t trespassing. He had not scented any pack markers that he could remember. “Uh you’re….we’re not trespassing. This is free territory,” But now that it was out there Kerberos could only hope that he hadn’t been so inattentive.
The other boy seemingly then crumbled to the earth, tears streaking his cheeks as they slid free. Kerberos drew a paw back in hesitation, fighting between the urge to offer what little comfort he could as a stranger, or calling for a medic -- not that anyone would likely hear the call. Kerberos seemed to be stuck in a limbo status. What exactly was he supposed to say? He had no idea what was causing the other boy’s sorrow, and thusly, could not necessarily sympathize when he was utterly clueless. “What are you sorry for? There is nothing to apologize for,” Kerberos spared a glimpse down at his paws, lips forming a contemplative line before he stepped over his seaweed wrapped possession, assuming that it would not be stolen or move anywhere while he had his back to it while he attempted to see if he could be of any…help to the distraught boy before him. “D-don’t cry, ok? I, uh, I’m Kerberos. Kerberos Aok, or Nereides, or Nereus, or Kesuk, or whatever.” (Nereus was added because Tokio remembered males didn’t take the Nereides surname but Kerby wouldn‘t know that) He introduced, tail giving a soft brush against his haunches, frowning at his own indecision on what to call himself. It made him sound unsure of who he was -- indeed he was all of them, and…none of them. It was confusing and complicated and left him with a headache when he tried to think too much and too hard about it.
Kerberos ghosted forward another step, head bowing slightly to bring his face a little more level with Yildun’s. “What happened? Are you hurt?” Kerberos was no medic but he knew a couple of little things, though the Aok boy was unsure if this was a physical issue or an emotional one; and he would only know if Yildun chose to share, which he had every right to tell Kerberos to go away, if that was what he wanted.
this used to be the place i ran towhenever i was in need
of a friend
[size=3]why did it have to end[/size]
It was at least nice to know that he wasn’t having his emotional breakdown in someone else’s territory, though he wasn’t entirely certain that having this breakdown in neutral territory was any better. Oh why did this have to happen right here, right now? Why couldn’t it all just stay locked away like it had been all these months already? This wasn’t how he wanted to spend his day. Although it wasn’t like he had anything else better to do, either. He’d only been trying to learn his way around the place he now called home. He’d heard some say that home was where the heart is, but his heart was broken. Would he ever be able to really call anywhere home since his heart was with his deceased parents? Did that mean that he, too, had to die in order to be able to call anywhere home?
His whimpered sorry had so many meanings behind it. He was sorry for breaking down like this. He was sorry for crying. He was sorry to his mom and dad. He was sorry for being blind. He was sorry for anything and everything at that moment in time. His mom had been sick for a long time, since the death of his other brother it seemed, and then she died, and his dad died with her. He somehow along the way began to blame himself, though it wasn’t something he talked about with anyone, including his sister that he loved so much. And here he was having his emotional breakdown in front of a complete stranger, leaving himself even more vulnerable than his blindness left him being. Yildun was an absolute mess in that moment and all because he’d stumbled upon the hot springs.
The other male introduced himself in a sort of attempt to get Yildun’s mind off of crying. It didn’t help, though, but he did give his own name. “Yildun,” he responded. “Yildun Imperri-d’Erom from… from Sterrenvuur. Used to be, I mean.” And that brought forth more tears. He was homesick, but not because he missed the territory. It was because he missed his parents. Parents that he wouldn’t see again until he, too, died. “I’m not hurt,” he answered, giving a slight shake of his head, sending tears dripping around his front legs. “Not physically, anyway.” A sigh managed to escape him through his sobbing as he flopped his head down onto his paws, unseeing eyes fixed forward, unwavering. “My parents died. A few months ago. This place… it reminded me of somewhere my dad took me when I was little.”
He felt bad because it wasn’t Julooke that he was pouring this out to. Perhaps part of the reason he didn’t talk with her about his feelings was because he knew that she was just as depressed and sad as he was. Perhaps it was because he wanted to save her from having to feel his pain, too, though he would gladly take on her pain if he could. Perhaps pouring it out to a complete stranger was just the thing he needed. So many perhaps’ involved. So many “what if” scenarios.
While the mental breakdown of this stranger was, well awkward, for Kerberos, who was still an extremely reclusive being -- he was honestly working on fixing that --, Kerberos could sympathize. That heap of crying pain had been him, once upon a time. Kerberos had moped about for many months after he’d been taken from Aktaie. Of course, Kerberos had been very young at the time, but he told himself that the age of the bearer of the pain did not matter. The point was, Kerberos had been in pale boy’s paws before -- many times over -- and he understood what it took to bring you, literally, to your knees. Of course, understanding what it felt like did not, to Kerb’s immense disappoint, lend him the correct words of comfort to use in attempts to console. A name was given, though this did not seem to ease the other boy’s tears any. Yildun. When Yildun continued to introduce himself something shifted within Kerberos then. A sort of shock that seized hold of him at the verbal confirmation that the other boy was from Seahawk. And while Kerberos had never been to Sterrenevuur, he had, of course, heard of it and it’s leaders. “You’re one of Liyano’s sons’ aren’t you?” Kerberos asked in a soft whisper, ears rotating back to the half mast position he’d sort of adopted for this situation.
“I’m from Shearwater Bay -- well no, that isn’t the truth,” Kerberos corrected, Lecter’s hissing words of truth surrounding his birth. “I was born to the Nereides…but this is totally irrelevant, isn’t it? I’m Nanuq Kesuk’s son. …One of them, anyway.” There. That was all that would matter to Yildun. Much simpler than the confusing story that was Kerberos’ past. Which was surprisingly dramatic and complicated even though he was only a year old. A soft sigh of remorse escaped Kerberos’ leathery, black nostrils when Yildun confessed that it was his parents’ death that was the cause of well, this. “I-I’m sorry Yildun. That’s - that’s hard, man. Nanuq didn’t die -- at least I don’t think she did but, she, uh, she left my siblings and I. I’m sure that she had good reasons, I mean Atka and Sos…to disobey them is…well, like treason,” Kerberos was aware he was rambling (and that he was making excuses because the truth was he didn’t know why Nanuq left). “I guess, what I’m trying to say is…maybe the Stars whispered that it was their time to depart the physical world.” Kerberos, if he remembered correctly -- given Yildun’s emotional state he prayed to Atka that he did -- was fairly certain that Sterrenvuur had some sort of star worship (or maybe something similar) going on. It felt like a good thing to say, at least.
“I think of deceased loved ones, how I think of the Great Bear Gods -- Atka and Sos; they aren’t there -- not really. You can’t see them,” Kerberos fibbed a little on this because he would catch translucent glimpses of Atka, shivers of a massive white beast -- not often but he did see her -- but that wouldn’t aid in what he was trying to accomplish. “You can’t touch them…but they are there. You can feel them, you can hear them whispering to you on the wind, they are with you. Parts of them live on in your memories. They exist apart from you now but they are not gone, Yildun. They, like Atka and Sos, are infinite.” Kerberos clamped his jaw shut, eyeing the other boy weary-like, unsure if he was actually helping or just making it horrendously worse. Kerberos' intentions were good, but time would only tell if they were being perceived as such.
this used to be the place i ran towhenever i was in need
of a friend
[size=3]why did it have to end[/size]
Through his soft sobs, he listened when the other male spoke. The mention of his father’s name did cause the sightless boy to hurriedly lift his head from his paws, turning his head toward the other male. Sightless eyes almost appeared to be staring at the other male while surprised danced upon his features through the sorrow. “You know my dad?” he breathed, sounding just as surprised as he looked. “My brother and I are the youngest of the litters him and my mom had. We had another brother but he died young. It’s… it’s been a few months since mom and dad died. Mom had been sick for a while. And dad… well… I don’t know what happened. He just… seemed to lose his mind or something. They… they were found together. I guess that’s how they died… together.” He wasn’t sure why he was saying all this, but he seemed unable to stop once he started. Yildun just hoped the other male wouldn’t end up thinking ill of him because of his rambling.
He had only heard about Shearwater Bay, but he had met the Nereides on more than one occasion. Though he hadn’t spoken a whole lot during those times, he had found them to be rather charming. “I know some of the Nereides,” he voiced out loud, giving a very faint nod of his head. “Never met anyone from Shearwater Bay, though, but I did kind hear about them here and there. Nothing much, though. Just something about bear gods or something like that.” He fell silent then, unsure of his own ramblings at this point. He was trying hard to not think about the sadness that was plaguing him, though his tears had yet to stop rolling down his face. All the built up mournful emotions had become too much for his young self to bear without letting them out. He missed his parents, especially his dad. And this place, these hot springs, brought it all out it seemed.
“The stars talk to me…” He had said it before he could stop himself and he hoped that the other male wouldn’t think of him as some weirdo or something. “They talk to me in my sleep, mostly. But I haven’t been able to hear them since my parents died. I think… I think it’s because of how sad I am from losing them.” He hadn’t thought a whole lot about why he’d been unable to hear the stars talking to him since the death of his parents until now. The sightless young male was almost as upset about not being able to hear the stars as he was over the loss of his parents. “I miss them,” he whimpered, flopping his head back onto his paws. “My parents… I miss them so much, especially my dad. He was teaching me things, helping me to learn how to do things, like hunting, even with being unable to see…”
Embarrassed that he was breaking down in front of a complete stranger, the sightless young male suddenly shoved himself to his paws, turned in the direction his new home was and dashed away...