Broken Antler Fen fire & smoke

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The once prince travels on unknown lands—ever seeking the party of sisters that were exiled unjustly from their home. It is no longer a home to Aldric without them, and the knight refused to listen to his father’s relentless pleas to remain. The secret of their outsing could not be kept long from him, and thus, he had broken free shortly after. Their traveling enough to lay their scents weak, however, and Aldric wanders lost with little clues of their presence.

Morning breaks, greeting him with an overcast sky and a drizzle. The rainfall welcome, for summer’s hot days—despite his path in Toth—have never been Aldric’s favorite. Autumn now rears its head, Razikale’s day soon upon them, and yet the ex-prince without the kingdom to celebrate. Already he spent Andoral’s alone, yet without @Nirali, each holiday would have been spent a loner as is. Falsities and masks donned too often with the nobility of Minrathous, Aldric is fortunate that the red-eyed thief blessed him with her presence. @Eleni, and @Araceli, too.

As he stretches from his camp underneath a towering willow, he thinks of them, and prays that they are well.

His wandering has taken him rather far from @Midar, a tendency that has become more frequent lately — but he makes sure he never puts too much distance between them. I'm just restless, he tells himself, trying to ignore the voice in the back of his head murmuring that his justification is only a sign of guilt. He's been avoiding his husband, and he knows it.
Thankfully, the scent of a stranger reaches him just in time to distract him from that particular train of thought. He starts to follow it automatically, grateful for the opportunity even if he isn't certain he's up to being social. A chuff slips from him when he spots the stranger stretched out beneath a tree, and he suddenly wonders if he even remembers how to have a proper conversation anymore. I guess I'll find out, he thinks, trying his best to look friendly as he slows to a stop several yards from the stranger.

Dark tipped ears catch the chuff, unexpecting the company of another, especially so early on a dreary day. Alas, it is never unwelcome, Aldric rises to his feet, careful to wander his way through the sweeping branches of the willow. His company a small wolf of who looks familiar in subtle features; he cannot pinpoint the vibe, but it noticeably lingers.

Dipping his head respectfully towards him, Aldric is surprised to see the other slowing his pace—though the emotion lacks from showing upon his face. “Good morning,” he greets, awkward with social situations himself and forever uncertain how to start them. “You can join me, if you are seeking shelter.” Aldric will not be lingering too long, after all. He has rested long enough, and must continue his search.

He's almost surprised when the male greets him, suddenly realizing how young he is now that he's nearer and speaking. No, I — He glances up toward the rain as if noticing it for the first time, then back to the red-maned stranger. I'm fine. It's just... been awhile since I've spoken to anyone. He pauses a beat, then adds: I'm Alarian.

That makes two of them; on the road, Aldric talked to a few—mostly basic greetings, help or questions from either party. Grand conversations, however, have not been on his mind. It settles in the back of his mind that he has been lonely—he misses Nirali especially, a lot.

Alarian is a name he has heard before, however, back on the beach under the cover of night—laid next to his crush, as she reveals more of her backstory. He never forgets what she tells him, too keen to devour the knowledge she gives and too interested to lay any of them to rest. His lips open, hanging there hesitantly.

“Aldric…” Instead, he found a man that Nirali has been thinking of, theorizing night after night about how he is. He wishes she was here, wishes they all were. This is not his place, and he feels uncertain how to react. Perhaps this is another Alarian—but the resemblance. Those ears.  

“Do you know Nesira?” It is the only test he can think of without giving information away further.

Um, He pauses again, caught off guard by the question. He'd thought that he'd recovered most of his memories, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe this boy is somehow another lost piece of his past. His head tilts and he frowns slightly, unable to recall ever hearing the name. Can you describe uh... Nesira?

Aldric watches him carefully—observing each movement of the small male as he searches through his memory. Alas, it does not seem to ring any bells at the moment, and Aldric is beginning to question whether he is making a mistake in digging deeper into this. The sisters should be the ones to.

“Silver and grey, patch markings. Short fur. Red eyes.” Floppy ears. Dog. He could go on, describing the qualities of which the sister’s gained from their mother, and what ones differ. Thinking of her brings the gruesome demise of Nesira to mind, but he swallows that sorrow for another day.

He frowns more deeply, this time because there is something vaguely familiar in Aldric's words. Is she... a dog? He questions, realizing only after he says it that he does remember her. Not by that name, or any name — but she'd been too unique to truly forget. The memory feels old, faded, but it is still intact. His ears flush as it comes back to him fully, but he doesn't say anything else for now. He really wants to know why this stranger is bringing up such a distant, personal memory — one that likely predates the boy's birth, even.

It clicks, and it is then that Aldric suspects that he has truly found Alarian. He inhales deeply, nodding his head at the question the silver-cream male ponders; Yes.

She talked about you often, not to Aldric, directly, but to her children—and by extension the silver ex-prince has learned of Alarian, too, or of what Nesira knew of him. Perhaps not all of it is true, the stories she told, but nonetheless, he feels as if he is standing before a legend to behold.

What? His confusion slips out before he can stop it. The past tense does not slip by him, but he's too distracted by the larger implications of the statement to acknowledge it. Why? He pauses, gaze flitting past the boy as if the landscape might provide answers. A knot begins to form in his stomach, though he has yet to fully grasp the reason, and he finds himself speaking again. I didn't know her very long...

Cryptic in his words, Aldric keeps from blurting out the reasons behind the integration despite Alarian’s persistent pressing and obvious confusion. He does not blame the man; Aldric could never imagine finding out over a year later that he has grown children, and he wonders how Alarian will react when the news is out.

I cannot say, he says, honest as always. Are you staying in the area, or are you traveling? For if Alarian is off on his own adventures, Aldric will be in a difficult spot; how can he pled with him to stay without giving reason?

The response he receives sends a chill through his veins. His ears fold back slightly and he takes a step back, torn between irritation and discomfort. The only thing that's clear to him right now is that nothing can be gained from talking to this boy. Um, He swallows. I should... leave. A pause. My uh, husband is expecting me. He turns away without waiting for a response, eager to get away from this situation and back to Midar.

Tension rises in his muscles, twisting them tight until the sliver ex-prince lifts his eyebrows. Although the excuse that leaves Alarian is believable to degree—he wishes to leave without laying a location. It is then that Aldric realizes he may have made the situation entirely too awkward.

He steps forward, looming without intention.

Wait, he pleads, his boyish voice cracking with desperation. His pulse picks up. Tail tip fidgets. I do not mean to… startle you. It is important. There are people that want to meet you. It has been awhile since Aldric spoke so much in one sitting, and he feels completely out of his element. ‘If only they were here,’ he continues to think.