Totoka River Try to convince ourselves.

He didn't stop running until he had gone beyond his physical limit; it helped that a river cleaved the path ahead, and rather than using the rushing waters as a finish line he stopped just shy of it and worked the adrenaline from his muscles with a few circuits of the bank. His lungs burned and he was a little dizzy from all the activity (and considering he hadn't eaten much besides scraps and frogs for the past few days, he was actually impressed with himself). Firefly paused over a shallow patch where the water bled between the stones at a much lazier pace and he drank greedily, until the chill of the water had cooled him off considerably. As he lifted his head from the water's edge he looked around for his next route, and found himself returning to what the golden woman had been saying, again and again. Ambrose, he tested on his tongue, but scowled. Definitely the name of an asshole.

After his run-in with Rosalyn, which presumably does not end in them maiming one another, Ephraim avoided returning to Elysium. He suspected that the Rusalkan bitch would follow him and he was loathe to lead them back to his new pack. It wasn't loyalty to his new packmates; he was just afraid they would continue to terrorize him if they knew where he laid his head now.

Instead, the coywolf made his way down the coast for several days, giving Rusalka's cove the widest berth he could manage without crossing into the mountains. If Rosalyn meant to follow him then she would surely give up by now, or that was the thought. He was just following the swath of green along a rushing river's edge to the sea when he came across Firefly.

If not for the golden mane, Ephraim may not have even known he was a Rusalkan. But time had a funny way of restoring one's memories; among the enemy, he remembered there were two black-hooded dogs, the sandy beige one he had gone after, another whose features he could not recall, and this very same slash of gold on black that made him freeze in place, bristling. Unlike Rosalyn, this Rusalkan wasn't pregnant, and therefore unlikely to hesitate.

A lot of confusion had been introduced to Firefly's life as of late. His own recollection of Drageda and the battle had begun to fade when the chaos of Rusalka began to take its toll on him, so fortunately for the young man, his memory of the first battle had somewhat dissolved by this point. He had other things on his mind. But when the scent of the cliffs reached him - overriding the crisp scent of the water - Firefly froze. He looked around quickly, emphasising his attention on his blind spots — and noticed the stranger moments later. They were not familiar except for a slight resemblance to Caiaphas, but Firefly did not know of Ephraim's connections to the sea-witch nor would he ever make that leap.

The two wolves were already quite close to one another. Fate had tossed them together, and now Firefly wasn't sure what to do. He could recognize a wolf of Drageda even if the cliff-walkers had dispersed from their claim; but because of their absence, and because of the percieved win for routing them, Firefly did not feel inclined to cause a stir here. He wasn't sure what to expect from the boy though and would have to keep his wits about him.

You're far from home, he called to the boy. It was merely an observation. Guess its kind of lonely up there on high, eh?

He was expecting to be attacked immediately, but instead, Firefly tossed some words across the distance. Ephraim's muzzle wrinkled back. Who was he to toss subtle insults? It seemed the Rusalkans thought they knew an awful lot about Drageda's wolves and their attitudes, and they couldn't be more wrong. But, he supposed, it went both ways. Drageda thought they knew a lot about their enemies, and they had been wrong as well.

So are you, Ephraim observed, twisting one thin ear around to survey their surroundings. He wouldn't be surprised if there was another skulking around somewhere; in the battle they had come in groups. Had come in groups on all other occasions, too, but he didn't know the specifics of those.

His dark tail gave a lash. He wanted to confront Firefly about Rusalka's neverending aggression like he had Rosalyn, but he had learned from that encounter. He would get nothing but snark in response to his questions. So he waited, testing the waters by remaining tensed but saying nothing.

So are you. The boy countered.
Yeah but I'm on my way back home, Firefly emphasized; not because he wanted to rub it in the kid's face that his cliffside vista had been abandoned, but because --- well, okay, maybe a little. It was just so easy to target his frustration at the nearest available dragon, and that was (unfortunately) this kid. But he huffed a chuckle as he drew closer, trying to laugh off the tension that was settling between them.

Where will you go now that they're all gone? He doubted he'd get a serious answer, but the wolf was genuinely curious. If he had nowhere else to go then there was always Rusalka — but the chance of this kid converting to their side wasn't a likely scenario. How would that be recieved after all the turmoil between the packs? Probably badly. Firefly did not envy this kid or the struggles that faced him now; he rarely felt guilt, and wasn't about to start empathizing here and now.

I guess Caiaphas really did a number on that one guy, he mused to himself after a pause, I absolutely thought that your people were going to come after us for that. Instead they had run off with their tails tucked, but he couldn't help but feel like they'd made a lifelong enemy that would haunt them later down the line.

It did needle Ephraim a little bit, the emphasis on home, if only because he could never really go home. Not because Drageda had up and left the cliffs, but because his heart didn't have a home. A part of it resided with his family in the Sound, but he was surely unwelcome there, and he didn't know that he wanted to be around such wolves anyway. Their vitriol seemingly knew no bounds. Another part of it resided with the Dragedan warriors in Trigeda, but having willingly become natrona, he wasn't welcome there either. A piece of it remained with him, for the only one he could trust these days with his heart was himself. Elysium was just the place his body rested for now. So for Ephraim, where was home?

I absolutely thought that your people were going to come after us for that. The boy seethed a little, fought to keep his expression from showing it too much, but he'd always been a fairly open book. The fact was, he thought his people were stupid for not doing more. All bark and no bite. Inaction had lost his respect and inaction had driven him to his present insecurity. But he wasn't willing to tell Firefly all that. They may have lost his respect, but Drageda would always have his loyalty in a sense, and he would not speak ill of them to their adversaries.

You were never worth the time or effort, he said, and it was true. In hindsight he knew that was what it was. Ephraim still didn't agree with it because he was a foolish boy who valued his safety over his pride, which was why he couldn't see Drageda's inaction for what it was: outright dismissal, because Rusalka could do nothing to them.

But didn't they? Drageda is gone now, and it doesn't matter the reason. Swallowing down these thoughts before they could consume him and throw him into another panic attack, Ephraim asked, expecting no answer, which one is Caiaphas? The name was a bit familiar, like a thought on the very edge of his mind trying to get his attention, but Ephraim had always been hopeless at remembering both names and faces from long ago.

You were never worth the time or effort, the boy countered; had Firefly not wholeheartedly agreed to that fact then he might have been offended; it wasn't like they had been encroaching on the claimed territory of the cliffs, they had stayed away for as long as they could. It boggled his mind to think about how desperate they were to fight them for a spit of beachfront when they had their fortress; but it was in the past now. His only response to the boy was a light scoff and a little nod.

Then the wolf lingered, and when he asked after Caiaphas, Firefly was vaguely surprised. Maybe he had been present during their first skirmish on the cliffs and sought some clarity? That was a blur to him, as was most combat during his recovery post-cougar; he knew it had happened but couldn't recall with certainty his own involvement. He'd fought and been patched up after, but the event was a black void within his (at the time) still mending brain. 

She's the one you really gotta look out for, he finally admitted. The boss lady, whether she carries the title or not. She's older, but the beach is her's — and her son's. Keep an eye out for pale coats and black heads if you wanna keep your skin. He wasn't trying to scare the kid or warn him away from the beach, but Firefly wasn't interested in further bloodshed. If this dragon chose to venture close to his home then he'd be in for a toothy surprise; perhaps he emphathized more than he knew, seeing this kid without a home to fall back on.

The one you really gotta look out for. That had been Antumbra for Drageda. With the commander, they had felt invincible. Ephraim had believed they were because she gave them all strength. When she passed away, particularly by taking her own life, not only had Drageda lost its commander, but it had lost its willpower. Their strong commander that kept them united and fearless had ended her existence. For Ephraim, there was no weaker way to go, and the betrayal had severed the bonds that kept Drageda strong, and in the end they had crumbled.

Caiaphas must be like Antumbra for Rusalka. If her life was snuffed, then perhaps the rest of them would scatter, too. It should have been motivation enough to begin plotting and scheming his way into the pack, and truthfully there was a small part of Ephraim—the part that was undeniably an Eyjolfur—that yearned to do that. Vengeance for all that he had lost, not like it was her fault.

But he would never do it, because that's my mother, quietly spilled from his lips. Blackhead, the Dragedans called her. It was hard to say whether his voice was laced with more regret or anguish when he said it; either way, there was no positivity in his tone. What should have been yearning for his mother was weighed down by grief, because as much as the boy in him wanted to see his family again, he knew as well as Firefly did that they were likely to cut him down for dedication to the wrong wolves. All because they saved him from starving to death alone in the wilds and he foolishly thought he was one of them. He couldn't regret a choice he never made for himself, but he did all the same, for what that had taken from him.

I didn't know, he pointed out quietly, but he knew it would mean nothing. He had stood against his kin; whether he knew it at the time or not was unlikely to matter to the harsh wolves of the Sound. Drageda was a debt owed, and I paid it tenfold without realizing until it was too late. I left before they did. He didn't really know why he shared that, or what else there even was to say. It was hard to talk to someone you were expecting to attack you at any moment. And what was he expecting, anyway? He licked his lips, awkward as he lapsed into silence.

The boy revealed something that came as a shock to Firefly — a relation to Caiaphas, of all people. His first thought was, this is a trick, because he just couldn't believe it. Why would one of her children leave her? Illidan hadn't; then again, Firefly wasn't privy to the details of the family or anything they'd gone through. He studied the boy in silence and could not see much of a resemblance to his mother (if there was any) — except a slightness of build, but that could've been from anything. Firefly discovered that he did not want to believe this truth-bomb -- but the boy was explaining things a little bit, sharing pieces without prompting Maybe he felt guilty.

I left before they did, he said in regards to Drageda's abandonment of their precious cliffside. Did it matter when? Wasn't it more important to think about why? The boy had been present for much of the turmoil — specifically, for the battle on the cliffs — so surely he would've known his family lived right next door. Yet he didn't choose to seek them out, reunite? It should not have bothered Firefly as much as it did; however, he thought of the weight that Illidan often carried, the sour quality inherent to Caiaphas, the darkness that spanned their lives which they wouldn't openly share with him.

You could talk to her? he offered, not that it was up to Firefly to decide such things. Caiaphas was a fickle creature prone to violence, but she had a place in her heart for her children, even he could see that. Firefly was frowning subtly as he considered the boy's options, but they both knew it would be too dangerous to go to Rusalka - I could draw her out if you want to talk to her.

And if this was a trick, one final ploy by the dragons of the cliffs to behead the queen of Rusalka, Firefly would be there to tear the boy and his allies to pieces.

You could talk to her. It was tempting, incredibly so. All Ephraim wanted now that he knew they were there was to reconnect with his long lost family. Maybe not his father. Kierkegaard had ever been a cold and stoic man whom Ephraim shared almost no bond with. But the rest of them? He couldn't remember their faces or names at all, wouldn't recognize them in a crowd save for Caiaphas (and Illidan, perhaps, for being their dam's lookalike), but he would have liked to return to them. It wasn't as though he chose what life had dealt him.

But for all the things he didn't know or recall about his family, there was one thing he was absolutely certain of, because Heda had told him so, and Heda didn't lie. She would kill me. And not in the way a mother might "kill" their son for having a half-naked girl in their bedroom when she got home from church, but in the literal sense. Ephraim, coward that he was, had no interest in laying his life on the line.

She left me there. She doesn't want me, he pointed out. Not that he would have left Drageda with Caiaphas if she tried to make him, because at that time Ephraim had believed in Drageda and believed she was just a villain, but still. She hadn't tried to reach out to her son since learning he was there, and he wasn't going to try to reach out to her now that he was aware of her, even if it broke a piece of his heart.

It felt strange to be here, talking to an ex-Dragedan as he himself was an ex-Rusalkan, although for the most part the fact he had abandoned the coastal pack had not set in yet. He faced this conversation as if he still represented Caiaphas's brood and their interests, but the more the pair spoke of the oceanside pack, the less attached Firefly felt. Maybe he was putting up a mental block; whatever. The comment about Caiaphas wanting to kill him caught in his ears though, worked its way deeper in to Firefly, as he felt it as keenly as the boy. They were both family to the crone. One was blood, the other was --- something else, he had no words for what he himself could be, except almost family --- but both had no place there upon the sand.

She doesn't want me. The boy said; Firefly listened for more - emotion, words, something deeper than this admittance, expecting sadness or something to spring forth. There was quiet, stillness, instead. He is reminded in that moment of Illidan's depressive episodes and wonders, will they want me back? But he knows the answer to that thought. Firefly is just as much a traitor to Rusalka as this kid. They were two peas in a pod.

Then don't go to them, he says with a roll of his shoulders. They gave up on you - they were in Drageda to fight for the freedom of one of their wolves, not to get you back. If she wanted you she'd have returned, and she didn't. So don't give them the satisfaction of showing up to the slaughter. It wasn't the best of advices; it was probably flavored by his own emotion, as the understanding of his own erroneous flight from the beach finally settled in his mind. I'm just as doomed as you are, he added with a grim little laugh.

When Firefly next spoke, Ephraim fixed him with a narrow gaze. What was he playing at? Do you think I'm stupid? he wondered, his voice once again gaining an edge. There was still that little flame in him that once made him a proud warrior of Drageda. It sputtered weakly, dim and dying, but every now and then it flared up. With Drageda gone, he had no reason to seek revenge on the Rusalka wolves, this guy included, but it didn't stop the anger that sometimes reared its head when they spoke ill of Drageda. He had left Drageda because he no longer believed in it, but all the same, he was protective of it. Just not more than himself.

All Ephraim wanted now was to get away from it all, escape with his life and be done with it.

I'm not going to go there, I'm not an idiot, he declared, flaring his nostrils as if to say, can't believe you'd think I'm that dumb. Maybe it was just the wont of Rusalka to look down on everyone that wasn't one of their chaotic ilk. Firefly laughed and he frowned. I don't know what you mean by that. That's your problem, he said, quieting his indignation just a little. When you see her again, tell her I said hi. If what Antumbra said about her was true, she wouldn't care. But maybe some small part of her would, like some small part of him wanted to see his mom again and remember her face, however impossible that was.

Then he turned as if to leave, pausing just long enough for Firefly to say something if he wanted to.