Deepwood Weald Everything not lost.

I meant to be more active with him, oops.

After spending the past few weeks along the seaside scouring the area for clues, he doubled back to the forest - and that's where things became clear. The flurries had not stopped falling but that didn't deter Mithas; he was a black stain among the snow drifts, roaming confidently and with purpose.

There had been this feeling that had started to nag at him, in the back of his mind, telling him to return to where he'd lost his brother's scent. So he did, and upon doing so, found the forest to be ripe with scents. Chief among them was @Marruz — and that made him positively irate.

To think that his brother had been here - had reached the group before him - infused his every inch with fury. He had to chant a mantra to himself to calm down, lest he appear too aggressive and antagonistic (even if that was how he felt, how he acted most of the time). It didn't take long for Mithas to find those borders again and cross them, this time with his brother's image in mind - and he canted back his head to summon him with a bold command.

meh, this thread'll make up for it

Marruz heard it first. The voice of broken glass, hurtling shard after shard of his past through his audits. The blood that first drummed at the beating of his legs now drummed for reasons he could not explain (or, perhaps, truly could). In one, jarring halt, his spindly legs quivered like arrows into the blanketed earth. Two ears perked, alert, and then that indigo orb came swinging round.

So, he thought with an inward sigh, it begins. And he did not hesitate any longer. Immediately, he pressed through the willowy copse with the aptitude of a snake, weaving and gliding along the shadows. His exterior relayed nothing of the millions of bees swarming throughout his mind; his chest.

When he first spotted his brother, he could not help but loosen a smile upon his lips. No, no - this was no smile of relief or elation. Not love or excitement. Indeed, it was a triumphant smile; a smile of one who had found the treasure first. He warded away thoughts regarding how his sibling may have changed, what hardships he may have faced. All he summoned was his height as he approached, stopping many paces away so that his eyes were only small flames in the darkness. 

Marruz did not say a word, but his expression said it all. They were brothers, after all.

He did not offer a greeting to the boy; in fact he was not deterred any further by the layered scent of the claim once he caught sight of him, and kept up his pace. His strides pulled him through the deeper snow until he came upon an exposed shoulder of rock which somehow managed to avoid too much glaciation — and there he stopped, containing himself for as long as he could while his deep breaths fumigated the surrounding foliage with his draconic exhalations. He didn't quite side-eye his brother (didn't move enough to get a look at him, wasn't going to waste the effort), but the tilt of his ears showed that his attention had been redirected.

With some finality to his tone the boy says, So, you found them.

He does not indicate his frustration, freezing it out with the same glib affectation that their father often used upon them, nor does he indicate his surprise. Mithas should have known better than to trail off towards the oceanside — there had been indications that his brother had passed in to the forest prior to this moment and he'd read them wrong, gone the wrong way, lost track of it -- and now they were here. Mithas the clear loser.

Marruz had anticipated the cold response. His brother had always been a stone wall - impervious to typical sibling relation. But, he couldn't blame his own blood for behaving this way. It wasn't as though they had been raised beneath two different fathers. 

The imperious veneer was all too familiar. In fact, it almost seemed... comforting? Nostalgic? Marruz couldn't quite pinpoint the tide of emotions this encounter unveiled. He only knew that until now this place had seemed like a different world. For only a matter of days, Marruz had believed he might leave his past behind.

Standing there, however, he knew his father would never leave him. Not so long as Mithas walked the earth. It was evident everywhere upon him: the way he breathed, the way he walked... the way he didn't meet the eye. Yes, Marruz believed it probable that the brute could not even recall the details of another's iris. 

But, I'm your brother, his mind screamed. We grew up together. We endured that monster together. 

"Do you find it surprising, brother?" was all that slipped between his lips before he snapped them shut again; pressing his claws hard into the snow. And as much as he wanted to relish the moment, there was a sour flavor to his words. The muscles along his jaw clenched, but his bodice remained just as indecipherable as his kin's. It was a family trait.

There was silence for a drawn moment, and then the boy spoke. The sound brought stillness to Mithas' mind and he drew in a deep breath even as the words spilled, as if considering how to handle the situation. He didn't want to admit that he'd fallen short in his hunt for their family. Their father hadn't given him much information to begin with (not that he could blame him for anything) and Mithas had been so filled with self-satisfied confidence that he'd drifted from the path. But he was here now, and wouldn't be leaving.

He didn't bother answering that question — because he was, at least in part, surprised that Marruz had won the day, but he was also quite bitter and his arrogance wouldn't let him say as much. So instead the boy took control of the situation and said, They've been here a while, he assumed by their scent, but the way Mithas spoke made it appear as if he'd known of their location. Indicating (falsely but with conviction) that they were on equal footing after all.

I did not get their leader's name. Call them here so I may introduce myself. He commanded, and finally looked at his brother with the grim expression of an impatient executioner - save for the glimmer of mischief he could never shake. The subtle smirking curve upon the corners of his mouth.

Marruz narrowed his eyes when his brother omit a true response. His tone oozed upon the air like molasses to his ears. It was true what the fellow youth said: the Melonii were by now settled and acquaintanced with the Weald. Still, in his head it was a debatable matter. 

The darkling now took his own chance to spurn a response. His brother, however, did not wait long to let his vocals fill the gap. As usual, it was a command that met Marruz's ears. Something glinted in his indigo orb as he stood there, watching his own relation waltze right in. One would think this was his kingdom.

Marruz suppressed a small chuckle at the words of Mithas. It was a wry feeling, but it seemed to fit the wintry chill. "One would think you were the leader, the way you're acting," he couldn't help the ensuing gleam, nor the mockery in his tone. "Why don't you call them yourself, mighty Mithas?"