Two Rivers Isle Epic Meal Time

for the perf babe, herself, @Epic forgivemefortakingyears

Today, another foggy and illustrious day brimmed with windchill and scathing winter torment, was the day Cry chose to fish again. He knew it had been a while since he and Gwen had snacked on some fish, and no one liked old fish. She had been seeming to miss something, and he couldn’t exactly put his paw on it. But he didn’t want to ask her- instead he wanted to surprise the beauty. With a nice freaking cold fish. If it were fresh and frozen, he might be able to make her smile; he knew he definitely enjoyed working his jaws on a hunk of frozen food.

So scanning the ice and chipped banks, the Phantom searches for a snack for his Ghost.

Ah, thank-you, sweet babe <3

The young boy felt another pang of hunger coming from his stomach; by now he was getting used to the feeling of hunger but it seemed that this cold, arctic winter was especially hard on him. He disliked the season of winter even if it brought new life when rolling onto spring. Every day it felt like he was living up to his reputation as "Twiddlestix". Scanning the distance he saw another wolf bravely venturing onward and trying to fish. Never one to turn down an opportunity to hunt (together), Epic decided it was time to try his luck once more. 

"Hey, hey you're fishing!" Epic murmured like an echo from the distance. "C-can I join? Like maybe we can work together!" Shyly he smiled, hoping that his charm would work for once. Usually it didn't. 

Cry hadn't been startled. In fact, he felt as though with him sitting like a duck in the pond, he was rather apt to being spotted. So in a way, the ex-assassin was expecting to be spotted. Stopping at a lively bank, he turned to meet this nearly average looking male who called out to him. A grin almost lined his lips, but Cry let it liven his voice, instead, inviting the younger male over with a wagging swish of the banner. "Absolutely." Hell, while it burned his insides that he was allowing this to take place, Cry concocted a plan to ensure the company would have as much fun without scaring away his prey. "In fact, I kinda need you to be on the opposite side of the isle for this game I have in mind."

Settling on his side, the side nearest Shadewood, Cry tensed himself to snap up some fish that might wanter too close to the edge of the bank. "Want to see if you can beat me with how many fish you can catch before you get too cold!" For once, Cryy was actualy trying to play a game with someone. What a phenomenon.

It was a rare opportunity to catch fish, especially during the winter. Most rivers were frozen, covered with a thin layer of slippery ice. At the edges there were cracks, warning those who came too close. "Oh?" So this was a game, then? Even better! With a small wag of the tail, his eyes gleamed at the challenge and his face turned into something of an "game on!" expression. 

Epic listened carefully to the instructions before slipping gently across the ice and almost falling in the proces. Luckily this time he reached the other side without falling. "Are you sure?" Epic challenged the male with a playful undertone. "I'm so certain I can beat you. Even if your challenge sounds kind of fishy, sir."

Without waiting for a reaction, Epic's golden eyes moved downwards as he began looking at shimmers and shadows below the water surface. 3..2...1..when would they go?

Cry was entirely waaaaaaay too busy laughing at the youger male's pun that he had managed to give the whelp a head start! Chortling away, the Phantom had the worst time trying to concentrate, and by the time that he had gotten into the fridgid water, the russet mix had already beaten him to it! Trying his hardest to snag a fish, Cry kept his eyes peeled for any movement. A pair of frosty gems darted between the rushing currents.

snag

Just that quickly, a bluegill was in his jaws, wriggling hard enough to try and fin him. Bisecting the pearlescent fish with a swift crunch, the Keeper kept his acute fishing going until his paws began to go numb. Figuring it would be best to stop now, he tossed the last carcass on the shore and took a snorting glance at his pathetic pile. 3 fish!! Who'd get full off of that?!

Turning across the shore, Cry peered over to see what his playful company had wrangled up.

Holy smokes, yikes. Epic knew that the water was very cold; however when he placed his paw to test out the temperature it felt like he was bitten by an ice shark. It was so cold it felt really unpleasant. Did he really want to do this? But of course, he was challenged! Without thinking, and more in a (you only live once) YOLO-manner he muzzle dove into the water as soon as his golden eyes caught the shimmer of a fish in the freeze-cold water. Ignoring the fact that he didn't feel his muzzle anymore, Epic continued onward for fish number two. 

His left front paw kicked up the water, trying to catch fish number two. A miss. Then again, another miss. He tried several times until a total of four fish lay on the shorelines, gasping for air like a dying man's last breath. "One, two, ..three." With his tail he tried to swoop back his last catch that was almost edging back into the water again. "Woot, woot I got effin' fantastic four." Proud on his accomplishment, he then turned curiously towards Cry. Epic looked at the male quizically, as if stating; how much did you get? Only then without using words. However proud his accomplishment might have felt; his entire body from top til toe felt completely numb. That was the underlying catch of this challenge. 

But it was worth it! So worth it!

He had been bested! By a younger male, no less! But all the ex-Assassin could do was drape the competitions end in a blanket of laugher. 
He hadn’t had as much fun today as he had in quite some time!

Shivering loosely, Cry shook out his own furl of void pelt, eclipsing himself in a fluff of ebony. A much more comfortable voice was thrown back to the cheery lad. “You must have been prepared for me, today! Either that, or you made some kind of pact with these fish!”

Taking one of the varied fish, a heartier one than the rest, Cry selflessly tossed it across the freezing waters so that it would land close to the gay winner. “For you! A true fisherman! Enjoy a full belly, tonight!” The sprite had gotten Cry at a decent time, today, and the Phantom smiled one of those rare gems at the lanky friend.

Oh yeah, if wolves had the phsyical power to do a 'high five'; he probably wood. Luck was on his side, for once. He won, just by a measily fish but it was a rather strong, overpowering feeling. His confidence and pride were beaming. The frozen water still bit him like a biatch, every step, every breath, every tidbit of his body hurt. It took him every power not to shiver as he tried to get warm again. 

"Thanks. I got lucky, just this once!" Epic wanted to protested in his own defence as Cry spoke, before the ebony male came over and let go of this most valuable fish. "Woah. No way!" That fish, the fatty one, was special. To him it felt like winning the lottery. His stomach smiled for once. Like a hungry puppy he gobbed the fish down, not paying much attention to his eating manners. Now there were six fish left and Epic felt like sharing. 

"Here..." He mumbled, his mouth still half-filled with fish. "You can have this one or this. Dory or Finding Nemo." But there was a (fishy) catch! "If you tell me about yourself. Your name and what's your story?" Epic wanted to learn more about his fishy friend.

Sharing was caring, apparently, and despite this wolf being much older than he initially thought the lad to be, Cry felt another bubble of laughter threaten to recrease his face all over again. Shaking his head at the offer, Cry declined both the orange belly bass and the bluefin trout the kid had offered him, instead choosing to depart his gift for free. 

“I like you, and you deserve a bit more than just a trade. My name is Cry,” he sat, wrapping a thing void hued banner around wet cold paws. “And I’ve got a home to set up and a family to make. I used to live a hard life before I met my wife. And thanks to her, our doors are always open to those who want a true Family.” It was true, and he couldn’t stress it enough. Gwen was his everything. Dangerously so, she was nestled on a life vein of his. 

A grin shot shot at the fish-flaked youth. “But since I let you keep your fish, gimme something about you, Prince of The Piscine!”

The black-painted veteran refused his gift, his meal; so now his golden eyes looked at the fish as if they were treasures he ought to horde, like diamons and gold. There was truth in that thought, however instead of presenting any currency it was ..food. Food was the vein of life. For now, though he was stuffed. Quickly he considered his options and knew that a cache was the best choice of heart, especially since Cry began to explain that he had responsibilities, a home to set up and a family to make. "If you need any.." Epic offered. "Then know they will be buried here in a cache. It'll be our secret!"

When Cry revealed even more tidbits about himself, the young male nodded. "It's a good thing we're not mates then!" Epic said, though there was no romantic connection or meaning to those words. It was more a jest; "I mean, my name is Epic and we'd be EPIC CRY." One ear flickered forward when the male wondered; "Was Cry the name your parents gave you? If not, what's the story behind your name?"

Kindness was even stretched a bit further when Epic heard about this newly set-up pack and the idea of a home. "You're too kind. What can you tell me about the pack you want to set up?" So many questions, Epic, stop it! Time to switch the talk-time and tell a reveal a little about himself; though there isn't much to him, or is there? "I have been a lone for as long as I can remember. Actually, I don't remember much of my paste. I just kind of one day woke up while my head hurt like heck. Then I named myself Epic. I-I don't know I might have an entirely different name. But my story is probably kind of silly, no?" He sighed softly, not liking a tidbit about his past; especially since he simply couldn't ...remember.

The lad was just the utmost of funny, and even though the optimism was from a grown male, Cry couldn't help but be reminded of Ashton, the hippie healer Slade had managed to become acquainted with at some point during Cry's training. The smiles, the postivity, Ashton had been one of the wolves Cry liked being around for the most part. And now apparently, Epic was no different. Such a bright personality would be absolutely perfect in comparison to Phex; the two would make tremendous friends should Epic decide to join them. Cry could only imagine what would happen should Phex excitedly mention to Epic 'We have a bear friend! He's a part of our Family, too!' Epic would probably be flabergasted.

"I think that's a pretty cool name, Epic. I'll have to tell my Wife to let you in on our marriage so we might do something about that."  A joke for a joke, one Cry mentally snorted at as he imagined bringing the subject to the stunning ivoria he was blessed with.

"Believe it or not, no, Cry is not my real name. My real name is a secret, Epic. Cry is just a nickname I've kept all my life." He had atleast chosen to be honest with the youth, as he had messed around and gotten attached to the kid-like male. He was reminded of happier days with the lanky lad, and it didn't help him at all. "But your name is cooler than mine, promise."

Watching the lad genuinely, the Phantom smiled and said in an ungilded tone. "A story is never silly unless the narrator wishes for it to be."

When Cry just admitted that his real name was top secret and Cry was like a cover-up, his eyes gleamed with curiosity. Suddenly his mind was running wild as he thought of why anyone would want to make up a fake name; unless it was a memory loss or his parents gave a really stupid name.

No, in reality he was thinking more into the sense of Cry being a secret agent or a spy on a secret mission. Maybe his wife was one of those chicks that always played the pretty lady. Hopefully she wasn't just that but instead one who could kick ass. Another explanation could be that Cry was this warlord, a mean badass, having a bad reputation of causing chaos and bloodshed everywhere. Naww, that last option was unlikely as Cry was actually a kind and cool dude.

"Why is your name a secret?" Epic said, having forgotten about the rest of the conversation subjects. "And why did you pick Cry?" Frowning, he then added; "Are you on a secret mission? Or were you once a bad guy?" Ah, Epic almost desperately wanted to know.

Where most thought Cry even having the name Cry was weird, interest shine like lighthouse beams in Epic’s eyes. And that has caught Cry off guard, yet again. While Phex held Cry’s adoration with her playful tactics, Epic had warmed him up with genuine curiosity. 

That honesty made Cry want to be honest, too. 
So he did. 
He opened up a bit more than he had to anyone, to a young stranger he had only met that day. 

“Cry is bad, Epic. He’s killed, he’s kidnapped, he’s stolen, and he’s worked only for the benifit of whoever had offered him payment. And he has only just hung his belt up. Personally, I don’t know whether that’s a good thing, or not. The Wilds aren’t as safe as nicer wolves deserve. And Cry knows that.”

Choosing to sit and tell this boy some stories, Cry let it all out. 

“I didn’t choose the name...my Mentor did. His name was Slade, and he was the literal definition of a Nightmare. He kidnapped me from my mother, who had named me a completely different name than the one Slade had stuck to me. I had gotten it because through all of the pain and misery he had ever put me through, he had never seen me cry. Instead, he would try his hardest to make me cry...he would torture me, maim me, put me in severe situations, and this was all as I was still a pup, barely begun to walk. He would to so much to try and see me break... but I never had.”

Cry remembered the several instances where in his absolute rage, Slade would chase behind Cry, greedily loving the terror he had bestowed in the wolf. So many chases until Cry would grow smart and know how to lose him, know where he would come from next, know where to hide and where to tuck himself away until he was called out. All while hot pants behind his fleeing body, searing a command in the back of his head.
’Cry...’ 

A chuff and a shaken head was all he could donate to such a tortured visual. Some had it lucky.

some didn’t.

So sorry for the delay x_X; And I melt with Cry opening up, such an emotional-felt post you have written there. D'aww my heart! <3

The world was grey, it was shaded; what was good could be bad and the other way around. The definition of something that was good or something that was bad was not so easy to define and mold into one single frame or definition. Epic rarely passed on true judgment on another wolf until had spoken; not by words but instead by actions. In this single situation he had gotten to know Cry as a friend, a nice fellow who was building a life for himself, his family and his pack that had yet to form. He had even refused a fish (that Epic would later on bring to Tux, to honor his friendship with Cry).

Slowly Cry seemed to open up and he gave a tidbit of insight on the black pages that had formed and molded him into who he was today. As the minutes passed onward, Epic took a seat while being totally absorbed with the story and forgetting everything about the world around him. Those dark pages of his friend's history contained bloodshed, violence, killing and kidnapped. Bad things that made Epic shiver and a cold feeling ran down his spine. But even still, he didn't pass on any judgement or saw Cry in another daylight, despite his history. Was this foolishness? Maybe, but even moreso it was the foundation of a friendship that formed.

Until the story ended, a few 'oooohhhs' and 'aaaaaahhhhwww' passed from his leathery lips and suddenly he felt a fierce, bubbly anger against this Slade-dude. "What the holy-fuck-heck." Epic muttered some more cursewords underneath his breath, unable to contain everything that happened to Cry as Epic was a pretty visual wolf. "After all the maimings you never broke down; maybe I should call you wolf of steel!" Epic said, then added. "Can we kick this Slade-dude's butt together?"

Epic felt various emotions ranging from anger for this Slade-guy to sympathy as he wanted to hug his friend and tell him that Epic too had a name for him. It wasn't Cry, to say the least. But before overloading Cry with all sorts of quetions and actions he tried to be patient, after all, this must be quite heavy emotional for him as well.

sorrybabedidn'tmeantotakeyears

Cry smiled at the reaction of Epic, something feeling affirmed in his chest about the youth trying to keep the Phantom safe from the already perished Uncle of his. "As much as I'd would've loved to maul the man down with you, Epic, he's already dead. I don't know how, nor have I seen the body to confirm...but he was quite up there in age from what I remember. It semeed for a whle that age didn't stop him from being terrible; as a youth, I didn't think he even aged. But now I recognize how even Time can pull down wolves- he can't escape old age, forever." 

That thought alone brought him peace, but it also pissed him off. He was robbed of a kill that he wanted to be the one to deal. He deserved it. It was promised to him by the damn man, himself. "But regardless, I appreciate the ofer, friend." Cry smiled as the younger wolf, wishing that the friendly face was one that would have occured more through his life. But he was grateful for this now, as it was.

I am terribly sorry for the wait, especially since this thread is special and makes me laugh 'n CRY <3

The young male didn't quite grasp the concept of time, of aging of maturing and then withering away and die. So when Cry explained that he had seen the wolf at an old age and he must be death right now, Epic doubted that statement. Especially because Cry never saw the old man's body. "Are you certain?" Epic boldly asked, wanting to make sure no kick-assery of super-duper kick-assery was really needed. "Because I'm not really a violent dude but when it counts, it counts." He added, making himself all fierce and bold by puffing up his chest. He could take on anyone, woo-ha.

"Don't you go all smiley-face on me now, tough guy!" Epic tried to cheer Cry up when he smiled, not wanting to talk like girls: giggles and smiles. They were guys after all, tough guys, especially Cry. At this point in time Cry had definitely earned a hero status, especially after opening up with all his heart. "Hey, speaking of time -- it flies by so fast. I think I gotta scoot soon. Um, will we meet again, mister Cry?"