Ankyra Sound See the thing is I'm so sorry to say
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#1
All Welcome 
The route leading to and from the beach was a twisting slope that took wolves near the Blackpine, but it was their only way off of the beach and packland proper, lest you shatter yourself on the rocks by going out to sea. Rather than kill himself by trying to swim right this moment, Firefly had decided to test his body's capabilities by patrolling the forest on the fringe of their claim — but that meant scaling the slopes, which had always been a struggle for him with his limp.

As Firefly approached the well-worn path he caught the scent of a few people he did not recognize and felt his spine bristle, but there was the ever-present mark of Caiaphas and Illidan too, and he reminded himself to be less of an asshole for the time being. If he was going to get better and prove himself capable of defending their home (if further battles commenced) then he'd have to focus himself. For now, he would focus on climbing to the dark forest.
the gunslinger
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#2
the boy could scent firefly on the chilling breeze that brushed through the pack. he thought for a moment to simply allow the sun-touched male to have his peace and quiet. when his limbs became too antsy and his mind seemed to chatter endlessly, the young ghost turned toward where he could scent the scarred male and began searching for his figure. the path led the boy toward the blackpine, and so he followed willingly. his lengthy limbs granted him a good advantage on speed. he imagined that the slopes were difficult for firefly because of his limp, but he was impressed to find him up ahead and trucking along well enough.
 
illidan set out at a canter and chuffed to get the dark male’s attention. when he had neared the brute, he slowed his pace drastically and offered the sun-touched brute a soft smile. his hawkish gaze searched the features of the man, wondering how he was doing after their battle on the cliffside. “hey firefly, how are you doing?” the young ghost inquired in a haunted tone.
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#3
He didn't make it very far before his more recent wounds began to twinge with pain, and the hitch in his gait slowed him further. It was just as well — Firefly was not in the right state of body (nor of mind) to go traipsing along within that forest. He couldn't even make it up the slope without feeling like he was tearing his wounds open fresh.

Hey Firefly, called out a voice from behind him, punctuated by the staccato beat of steps as the boy closed distance; Firefly turned in time to hear the question, but glanced back towards the slope that loomed ahead of himself and let out a sigh. His breath formed a small puff in the winter air but dissipated quickly, almost like the last vestiges of his effort leaving his body. I've been better, he begrugingly replied.

Not that Illidan would want to bask in his weakness with him, or anything. Firefly shrugged his broad wound-wrought shoulders. You'd think a hill would be easy as shit, but — he stared off at the distant path as it wound away from him in to the mist, and huffed again.
the gunslinger
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#4
the man turned his head back and fixed illidan with an expression that caused a twinge of guilt to pierce the boy's heart. firefly had vowed that he would do anything to protect caiaphas and the wildling. in turn, the young ghost had offered his own body to ensure that the sun-touched man would remain safe. in the heat of the war, illidan could hardly recall what he had done or for what reason. all that he could remember clearly was the image of his brother fighting on the other side. it still caused his stomach to clench in disgust, but he did not share these things with his present company.

“i think we've all been better,” the wildling returned with a ghostly little smile on his dark lips. he approached the male on his left side and offered a soft wag of his tail. then, he glanced up the hill that had been the aim of the man and he breathed a heavy sigh. his own wounds found that the slope was more than it was worth. he wondered if firefly had the same penchant for pushing himself beyond his capabilities as illidan did.

another heavy sigh seemed to rattle his bones within him and sent a shiver down the length of his youthful limbs. the ghost fixed his gaze on the other male. a haunting expression had made a home on his dark features – one that was too much for how young he was. “we'll do it together,” he offered with a firm nod of his crown. it might have seemed insurmountable when alone, but there was something to be said for the strength that could be offered from a pack mate.
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#5
The moments where he was alone were the worst. He'd spend them contemplating the battle - trying to bring any piece of it to the forefront of his mind. Force clarity on to the blur of circumstances that remained. He recalled some of the words shouted between the opposing forces. Caiaphas' voice the most familiar, so the most solid in his mind. Wolves pinned to the dirt, or snapping and countering and wheeling about. Himself being rushed by a golden shape — but each time he tried to think of that shape, it was amorphous. It wasn't canine enough to be familiar, but it wasn't anything he knew either. It was better now, with Illidan standing with him. They could hurt together and Firefly could forget about it all rather than dwell and speculate. He wanted to know why he didn't remember his side of the fight, but something was blocking him and for now, he'd have to let it be.

We'll do it together, Illidan remarked, and for a split-second Firefly thought the boy was privy to his thoughts and internalized confusion; but he looked where the boy was glancing, and refocused his mind on the task that had drawn him over here to begin with. The slope. He nods, and after positioning himself alongside Illidan, uses him as a crutch as he tries to climb the hill again — Sisyphus and his boulder.
the gunslinger
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#6
the war had done a lot to them, and it had caused a great deal of turmoil for most of the members of their group. the boy hadn't expected it to go as poorly as it had. it seemed as though he carried a lot more disdain for their failure than the others did. most were occupied with recovery; he was dedicated to increasing his odds in case the chance should ever arise again. he did not want to be taken by surprise by anyone else, and he never wanted his body to suffer from his mistakes. the battle had been a learning experience for him. it had not necessarily been a positive one, but a lesson nonetheless.

the young ghost braced himself so that he could support whatever amount of weight firefly wished to place on him. then, with a soft sigh, he assisted the sun-touched brute continue pushing upward. he did not want the man to ever feel as though there was something he wasn't capable of. in spite of the damage that had been inflicted to his body, he was still a force to be reckoned with – they all were.
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#7
They managed to reach the top of the ridge without any major issues, and he was thankful for that. Less important (but still present) was a sense that he was still weak. He did not want to ask for help again and again, but there would be days where he would not manage to leave the beach let alone reach the black forest. He was invigorated by the hard work of climbing, and could look down across the beach below with some pride. He thought he could spy Caiaphas roaming the sand — and there, drifting further out, was Erzulie.

We failed her. He blurted solemnly. They had not won the day — had not really expected to either, he thought. The dragon-wolves were mighty and they were prolific, making them dangerous. All he could think about was how they returned to Rusalka bereft of their prize, and how that must be hurting the witch-woman. She reminded him of Willowstrife and Deadnettle so much, and their mother Cigfa, that it was like failing a member of his family.
the gunslinger
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#8
their trudge up the slope was slow and difficult, but the boy held his ground in spite of the wound that had ravaged his shoulder. his eyes darted toward firefly once or twice to make sure that the man was still able to carry himself. when they reached the top, illidan breathed a soft sigh of relief and offered the most ghostly of smiles to his companion. they had done it, and it had only taken the two of them together. there was likely a lesson in there somewhere about how working alone didn't have nearly as much of an impact as working together did.

the boy was just pleased that they had done it without faltering.

“we failed her.”

his head snapped around so that his sharp yellow eyes latched on the sun-touched man. it was funny how quickly his feeling of triumph could fade when he turned to see where firefly was watching. yes, they had failed her. more than that, they had failed the one who had been kidnapped. how long could someone survive up there when they knew the odds were against them? illidan did not want to imagine what was going through rosalyn's mind.

“you don't fail when you lose. you fail when you quit,” he reminded the other man in a gravelly tone.
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#9
They watched the beach together from the ridge. Illidan spoke and initially the warriornwas too distracted by his feelings to really hear it - but as the words registered in his mind he nodded; his friend was wise. Or maybe optimistic. Either way the sentiment was a good one and Firefly appreciated it. They were both disturbed by their failings and yet, both knew that it was not the end. Together they would find a way.

When Firefly shifts his attention away from the dark canine shapes on the beach below it is to glimpse Illidan, and for a moment the boy looks mighty; his expression reads as determination while his battleworn body is that of a man's. He finds himself thinking about this boy's power and the changes that may come in their shared future - and then turns to face the forest beyond the rise. He keeps his ponderous thoughts to himself for now.

It's a good thing I'm such a stubborn asshole then, he quips as he begins to stride along the path towards the forest. His sides are heaving after the hike up the hillside but he isn't ready to stop yet.
the gunslinger
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#10
illidan was neither wise nor optimistic. he knew only what the world had shown him in his first year of life. he had not traveled far or witnessed the fall of comrades on the battle field. they had lost one of their own in the attack on the cliffside wolves, but he had not been there for it. to hear of death was different than experiencing it. he knew that he lacked a great deal of what made others great. but he had a great deal of drive that pushed him toward growth and the building of strength.
 
the young ghost knew that the years ahead of him would be filled with sadness and loss, but that he was capable of learning things from it. trauma had a way of teaching that nothing else could quite live up to. while illidan knew nothing of the specifics, he was expectant of the hardship that would make his life.
 
“it’s a great thing that you’re so stubborn,” the dark-hooded young man commented with a swift smile. he glanced toward his companion with a sharp look in the yellow of his gaze. there was a fire there that could not be extinguished. something had shifted within him to make him more dangerous, and far smarter than he had been before. illidan had found his reason to keep fighting.