The Sentinels Bravery only means something to those afraid of death.

It still pained Dacio to walk, though seed of the poppy had eased it enough to allow an opportunity for wandering. He favoured it as he roamed Northward, moving carefully beyond his mountain home with an uncontrollable desire to revisit the place where he'd crossed the path of a certain coastal wolfess. One with whom he'd shared an... interesting encounter.

He'd requested that their coupling be kept quiet, fearful of Hydra's wrath should she come to learn of such intimacy between her subordinates and outsiders. Dacio had heeded her stern warning well enough until that evening. Now, having discovered a whole new purpose in life after finding a source to dip his wick, could not shelf the idea of doing so again.

Young, bold and foolish, fueled by a desire to find his hooded companion so that he might test for another reception of him, Dacio carried on beyond the weald where last he'd seen her and made his way toward the coast. Darkness hung over the world by the time he arrived, but there was no sign of the she-wolf to be found. He hobbled between the trees, not yet defeated, with his gaze searching for any movement between them and nose working to find any other scent beyond that of salt water.

The snap of a stick awoke Raleska sharply from her dream: of eddying pools, and a distant phantasmal blue light. 

She remained frozen under the screen of a deadfall, her long ears strained and her heart beating roughly in her chest as she listened. 

Whatever was lurking, it was close. Could it not hear the pounding of her heart? The rash of her heavy breath?

Raleska’s jaws snapped shut and she hunkered fearfully down, her yellow eyes searching through the darkness for whatever beast it was that swung its path near.

He lurked, searched, but could not hear the rapid thrum of a nearby heartbeat. Failed to notice the frantic breath of another. Instead, Dacio's senses flared to life when at last his working nose picked up on the precise sign he'd been so desperately seeking: a sniff of a female and the inviting aroma that accompanied her heat cycle.

It did not belong to the wolfess he sought, though he zoned in on it despite this acknowledgment. Pausing in his tracks, Dacio sniffed eagerly at the air in attempt to locate its source. A low rumble in his chest, he peered through the darkness for any movement between the frosted foliage. Nothing, he observed with curiosity, and so remained rooted as he sent forth a soft beckoning in request for the stranger to reveal herself.

She hung the balance between fearful and furious. Fearful she was alone in the dark, and a wraith lurked afoot; furious that she could be reduced to so pathetic a thing, hiding in the cover of midnight like a trembling doe.

The thing beckoned — his whickering voice soft and inviting through the frozen pines. Raleska’s gaze lifted, scouring the impermeable black for the caller. She could see naught between the moonlight but a silvery sheen of movement.

She was discovered — there was no use hoping this one would pass her by. Raleska answered in turn, a quiet growl instructing the male come no closer.

He waited. Quiet, with charcoal rotating with excited anticipation atop his silver crown, Dacio listened for a response.

When it came, his disappointment showed in the form of frustration. He furrowed his brow and glared into the darkness, made entirely pissed off at the wolfess' rejection before she even looked upon him. Dacio was a young wolf, strong and fit despite his recent injury from protecting his Alphas' son, boldened by his recent successful sexual encounter. How could the ladies turn him away, when he was so eager to offer himself?

He ignored that warning, choosing instead to prowl forward and in the direction her growl had come from. I won't hurt you, he tried to communicate in a low rumble, sure that a softer approach would yield better results, you are safe with me.

There was a pause from the underbrush. Raleska heard the sweeping rush of night as it filled the silence around them. For the shortest moment, she thought perhaps the stranger had heeded her words and would leave..

He did anything but. She heard another crack as twigs and leaf litter were crushed underfoot. He was advancing; so much Raleska could now scent the rich aroma of his fur, detect even the hint of coastal wind upon it — 

Her eyes widened; this scent was troublingly familiar, yet she could not place it. Now the males figure was at her doorstep metaphorically — she could make out the leanness of his sharp muzzle, the mossy green of his searching gaze..

Her hackles flared as she connected two and two — yet for all of her hatred for this man, a sense of terrible foreboding and desperation filled her. Raleska’s back arched against the wall of deadfall she had slept against, and she rose abruptly so she might square him off. Her lips crinkled in an answering snarl. Leave me alone. The Eyjolfur commanded, tension rippling through her voice n

He found her at last, though she was hardly what he expected. Dacio's dark hackles lifted along the length of his dorsal as he stumbled back, huffing in surprise as his tail arched behind him, flagging without thought. "You," he hissed, taking another backward stride as he spotted a flash of gleaming ivory in the darkness.

She was far from her home, far from the coast their families had so actively fought over. Dacio fidgeted in place; it was an odd feeling to be both aroused and enraged at the same time. Frustrated adrenaline coursed his veins and the warrior's lip twitched as he considered how to handle this. "Why are you here?" Dacio grumbled, made suddenly anxious by the possibility of her Rusalka dogs lurking nearby.

It took him mere seconds to recognize her in turn. Raleska flinched as he stumbled back, his hackles in razored edge along his spine. 

She could have asked him the same question — why was he here? From what she had seen of Ephraim and Tux, Drageda was fragmented — or so she thought.. but if he was here, was his sister far behind? She recalled their last encounter too painfully — and even had the scars crisscrossing her muzzle to prove it. 

I’m hiding. Raleska answered truthfully, the baldness of her tone indicating it was no lie. I.. could she even begin to explain all that had happened since she saw him last? Would he care or even believe her? I don’t want to fight you. She growled, head low but nerves still on edge.

"Hiding," Dacio repeated, scoffed, as Blackhead's foolish daughter attempted to play the victim card. She and her kin had been the ones to make camp directly up Drageda's ass, the ones to pick fights, the ones to invade - at least from Dacio's perspective. He and his siblings had been mere babes back when it all started but he could vividly recall the night that war had come to the cliffs - that was enough to solidify his opinion of them.

Oddly, despite all the bad blood between their two packs, she announced openly that she did not wish to fight him. Dacio blinked, confusion swiftly added to the whirlwind of emotion that he felt. "Why not?" The young warrior countered, not wanting to trust her word. Too much doubt within him, considering their violent history and her snake of a mother, and Dacio wholeheartedly believed that she would make attempt on his life should the opportunity present itself.

Naturally, he did not believe her. If only she could channel all her memories into one emotive fist, and punch him with it so he could see clearly her words were true!

Hurt flickered behind her gaze, the emotion of which she tried to hide so he would not think her weak. She may have been his enemy, but she had never been a liar. The one thing that worked in her favor now was the undeniable scent that cowled her — surely he had a nose. Her throat constricted as she juggled with his answer. I’m hiding, Raleska repeated somewhat sulkily, her gaze flickering to the scars — had she and her own been responsible for that? If we fight, that is noise. I’m trying not to draw attention to myself. But that wasn’t the real reason she wasn’t interested in fighting. I don’t have a quarrel with you anymore. Seeing Ephraim, helping Tux — it had put into place that they had been children brainwashed by their bloodletting parents.

He did listen to what she had to say, though it was apparent that he didn't particularly want to. This much was clear in the knitting of his brow, the narrowing of grey-green eyes, the scowl on his scarred muzzle. Dacio had loathed all things Rusalka throughout the entirety of his lifetime, and those years of engrained emotion was far too much for him to simply shake off.

"Why now?" Dacio needed to know why, after all this time, after all the bloodshed and trauma and heartbreak, had she decided to let go? How was it that she could, yet he could not? He took another step back, mindful of the injury to his forelimb as he felt a sharpness in the targeted joint. "This has to be some joke. You're trying to trick me, aren't you?"

Why now? Raleska’s brow lifted — this had not been a foreign concept for her, though Dacio might find it new himself. Truth be told, while she had hated him and his sister last they met, she had even then, wished to live and let live.  She had only ever wanted to live without fear of attack or blindside.

It isn’t new to me. Raleska inferred, still wary lest he show his fangs. Raleska had fought tooth and nail to let go. She had even turned away her mother out of faith in her new beginning, free of chaos and enemies You don’t believe me. Did it matter? Caiaphas would think her little girl soft, but Raleska was tired of fighting other people’s wars. I saw Ephraim a month ago. Before that I helped Tux — he was washed up on the beach. She didn’t know why she was telling him this stuff — especially since, in the end, she didn’t care if he hated her.. as long as he left her alone. I’m tired of it all.

The longer this dragged on, the more he tossed questions her way, the stronger his disbelief... the better he saw the real fear in her wild eyes. He wanted to think it swam in those vivid irises because she was alone and vulnerable, because she knew he could slay her then and there if he chose to.

He could. He really could, and he thought of the pride he would carry in presenting proof of such a kill to his sister. He would flaunt that mark on his shoulder for the rest of his days.

But what good would it bring for him? Drageda had been gone for a long time now, swept from the earth until all that remained were the memories of what it once meant to him. Had Dacio not already let go, in a sense, by shedding the Drakru name that he'd so desperately clung to?

He felt himself deflate at the mention of those who'd once been kin, now lost to him. The breath in his lungs was exhaled in a sigh, and his glare softened to one of pity as he looked upon the frightened form of his lifelong enemy. A long pause dragged on as he did so, awkward and uncomfortable, before he took another backward step to place further distance between them. 

"What is your name?" Dacio asked of her, aware then that he had never cared to know it.

The tension between them remained, drawn out by the holding of her breath. Would he strike her? Would he spurn her? Raleska found his face unreadable— all she had ever seen for emotion in those pinegreen eyes was burning, rampant hate.

It all dissipated when he asked something as simple as her name. How could two wolves whose lives had been tied together not know each other’s names? It all seemed so dehumanizing, to stand several feet from your enemy — one of the most globally impactful individuals in her life — and realize she did not even know his name. Raleska’s shoulders sagged, and she answered in quiet turn. Raleska. You?

Raleska. If he were to be truthful, he'd say that he would've thought Caiaphas arrogant enough to name her daughter after herself - Caiaphas II or Junior or some dumb moniker along those lines. Dacio had never thought her the type to allow her own offspring to find their own identities, forge their own paths, and so he couldn't help but wonder where this one had picked up such a different view.

He recalled the storm on the cliffs, how his sister had sided in Raleska's capture alongside Blixen and Furi, and had not stopped to consider the terror it brought her. Dacio had thought her purely a danger like her mother before her, held firm between his pack-mates' teeth, and he conjured that same threat when he'd attacked her beyond the sound several months later. A moment of opportunity, was all he'd seen back then, a chance to seek revenge for all the wrongdoing her family had done to his.

Now, though, he saw a bigger picture. He saw a young she-wolf, as afraid and as hurt as he had always been - right from the start. A child born into feud, destined to despise the enemies of their parents. "Dacio," he told her rather stiffly, unsure what to do or how he felt. Numb, and suddenly void of what he thought had been his life's one purpose.

Dacio. Raleska turned the name over in her mind, curious. Was it a name steeped in legacy with his family, did it mean anything to Drageda’s empire? She kept her queries close to her tongue, but did not speak them.


Dacio. 

Finally, a name to the face that had more than once featured in leering hisses in her dreams.  

Now what? She shifted just after he did, allowing the silence to cloak the two of them. The night’s noises rushed by. Raleska cast an ear out to them, taking in a deep breath before she spoke. Are you going to hurt me? Raleska’s gaze searched his countenance without shyness — just like with Tux and Ephraim, she was looking for any hint of deceit, but was willing to place her good faith in their intentions. 

Her mother would have called her stupid.

An epiphany. One that shattered him so much that he felt like he might crumble before her. Dacio would never forgive Rusalka for what it did to bring about Drageda's downfall, but as he lifted his gaze and found a hawkish stare looking back at him, he did wonder if he could forgive Raleska.

Guilty by association, as they both were. It wasn't enough reason to hate.

He sagged, fanned his charcoal ears backward at her enquiry. Dacio had brought harm to her once before, unprovoked, and those he assumed to be her guards had damaged him in return. He found himself searching for the scars he bore her, pastel eyes roving her body in the darkness as she shifted. "No," he told her, a single-worded vow. Not again.

Never again.

She found no malevolence in the open stare that looked back. In a way, that absence of the beguiling spark she had come to recognize in her own mother’s gaze was soothing. It was not here; it seemed to Raleska that Dacio’s words were leveled with defeated acceptance.

She believed him — when maybe she shouldn’t. Her own head lowered in turn, her rounded shoulders loosened. Okay. She breathed into the hushed darkness, her brow furrowing as she parroted back a question he had asked of her earlier. Why are you out here?

From between his lips slipped his tongue, just enough to trace a dark jowl in a communication of the anxiety he felt. He didn't know how to handle this she-wolf now that they'd come to some sort of strange mutual realisation. Dacio supposed it made sense to get the hell out of there and carry on with his life, go forward as he always wanted to, yet it felt wrong to leave her alone in such a vulnerable state.

"I was looking for someone," he said, and it was all he would share on the matter. He was hardly prepared to tell her he'd been on the prowl in search of an opportunity to mate. His desire for Huā had been swiftly cast aside in favour of pursuing another - one who'd turned out to be Rusalkan, and it felt fucking weird to have considered such an encounter.

A moment of silence, and he blinked. "I can..." he felt uncomfortable to speak, considering how he'd tasted her blood on his fangs before: "you shouldn't be alone out here. It isn't safe."

Raleska saw a dart of pink trace along Dacio’s jowls — no doubt, some of that inward anxiety was communicated (and reciprocated) to her. 

She also was on edge. It was not a nervousness that fluttered in her heart now, but a semblance of being out of place. She could go home, but the roads were dark and who knew what prowled at the height of midnight? She was safer here, even if she did not feel it. 

Unsure of how to proceed, Raleska listened to Dacio’s proposition with a turned ear. Part of her — the more cold, rational part of her — felt she needed no protection at all, particularly not from an ex-enemy that had only just recently renounced his burden of vengeance.. and her, the more delicate part of her sensibilities — the part that wanted nothing but security, warmth, and the feeling of being wanted, thought his plan was just fine too. 

She in turn licked her lips, weighing the decision and finding ultimately, even though she was alone, she hadn’t wanted to be alone. ’Safe’ is just an illusion. Raleska said bitterly, but not dismissively. but.. you can stay, if you want. What happened to your arm? She had noticed earlier the way he favored it, and was curious whose teeth had come across him as of late.

Safety, an illusion. She was right about that, he supposed. Dacio had thought he'd always known safety on the cliffs until Rusalka's invasion amid the storm, how they'd robbed him of a mother, of Heda. At times he'd thought them doomed, cursed, yet still his heart longed to be there where he was sure he belonged. That stubborn part of him that couldn't quite let go of what once was, despite all the sacrifices he'd had to make to survive.

He was a fool, but a loyal fool.

Raleska's attention was drawn to the wound of his limb, and so too followed his own. Grey-green eyes sought it in the darkness, found the glimmer of puncture wounds that oozed from the wear of his coastal roaming, and swept his tongue across the markings to soothe the reminding sting. "Someone attacked my pack-mate," he answered, content to settle there with her for a time and grateful for her offering to do so, no matter the awkwardness of it all. "He is just a boy, not yet a yearling. I had to protect him." An exhale as he sank his haunches to the ground, still wondering how to tackle the tension that continued to hang between them.

"I know that I haven't done only good in my life, Raleska," he said, "but I always believed that your family ruined mine, and I've tried to do best by those few I have left. For what it's worth, I'm sorry that things had to be as they were." Apologies had never been easy for Dacio, who glanced away into the never-ending night that enveloped the woods. It was all he could offer, really, to smooth out the future after a lifetime of hate and resentment. 

An attack — would the violence of this world never cease? Empathy glimmered in Raleska’s gaze as the story unfolded. She thought back to when she was a child, attacked — and wondered if that boy would be okay. 

Dacio reclined to his haunches. Raleska watched him curiously, for he looked on the precipice of saying something of great importance. She never, in a million years, expected an apology. Her brow furrowed, then lightened, then furrowed again as she navigated how to answer. I’m sorry as well. We were children.. fighting our parent’s wars. She met his gaze openly. That’s why I wanted to move on.. put it behind me. My pack too — She paused, pained as she prepared to share something with him that still to this day cut through her like a knife: It’s Rusalka, but it’s not Rusalka anymore. We lost some members and.. She sucked in a deep breath, committed no matter how much it hurt. My mom died. Ephraim found her, back at Ankyra.. it’s not the same pack as it was a year ago. And all that fighting had been for nothing.

He hoped it was enough, because it was all he could offer, and was surprised that Raleska reached out to him with an apology of her own. The shock heightened when she carried on to share what had become of the dreaded Rusalka, though none more so than what he felt with news of her mother's demise.

Blackhead was gone, and it was about damn time.

Something jubilant swelled in his chest, some small sense of accomplishment despite the more peaceful nature of the coywolf's death that he assumed - considering Ephraim had apparently located her body. Dacio gritted his teeth, however, unwilling to celebrate as he detected the sorrow to Raleska's voice. He wondered if she and her kin felt this way back when news reached them that Heda had fallen, and did not doubt for a second that they did.

There would be no remorse for Caiaphas' passing, not from Dacio. Her death would serve only as a salve to the still-raw emotional wound she'd inflicted on hI'm all that time ago.

The boy blinked toward her once more, grey-green eyes searching the vivid yellow of her own. Dacio tried to hold her gaze, tried to read her mind and reach her thoughts, unearth what it might be that she would wish for him to say.

If only. He was fucking tired of if only.

So he said nothing. Instead he opted to scoot closer, exhale in a strained whine that hinted at sympathy, and found some small courage to outstretch his muzzle toward her in an offering of comfort.

Raleska didn’t know what she expected. Solace? Commiseration? It was unfair to expect either of these from Dacio, yet still, her heart was heavy with hurt. At least now, things were in the open. At least now, he might understand why and what had driven her to truly turn away from her past. 

She hedged a sigh into the cold air, her gaze flickering from Dacio’s to the darkness about them. Her ears reactively pulled back as he scooted closer; his silence as pressing as his presence. 

It’s all over. Raleska announced brokenly to no one in particular, suppressing the quiet cry that threatened to steal from her throat. Were she less stubborn she might have thrown herself into Dacio’s embrace, ready to cry — but a wild part of her did not wish to appear weak before him.

Before that night, the world had seemed so simple: Rusalka and Drageda, black and white, darkness and light. Narrow dividing lines of their own making. And when the illusion of self is shattered, one simply ceased to be. Though it may not seem that way to others others on the outside, Dacio knew when it is true. He could feel it, a stranger in his own body, an imposter, and nothing would be the same ever again.

Not for him. Not for Raleska.

There was so little left to lose.

She did not welcome his approach, but nor did she make attempt to repel him like before. Dacio continued with his tentative advancement, creeping through the darkness until he was close enough to feel the warmth of the she-wolf's breath on his face. It was only when her voice cracked beneath the sheer weight of her emotion that he finally moved to touch his speckled snout to her own raven muzzle, seek to draw deep the scent of her and hope that she would not see his gesture as a threat but a communication of his attempt to try. Try to be better. Gentler. Trustworthy.