Haunted Wood And When We Go Don't Blame Us

Pup search with @Clarence, Border patrol, etc

[size=16.8px]When the Meeting ended and Valour had dismissed them, he gently nudged the pup. "Come on. We'll do a patrol together, search the Eastern border then go from there." He groaned slightly as he got to his paws. He had lost weight- his tucked torso and arched spine evidence of such. It wouldn't take more than a few weeks to get back into condition. He needed to learn how to maneuver with his limited range of sight. 

As they left the meeting place Memory turned to the pup- the poor kid looked so terrified and ashamed...
"I'm not angry. I don't know what happened, or why, but I know you didn't mean it." His voice was gentle, almost loving. "When...when I was your age...I used to have these... episodes. There was this darkness in me. I was....not a good kid. That's for sure." He took a deep breath to quell the wave of memories, focusing on his pawsteps and scanning the ground in front of him for signs of the missing pups. When he spoke again, it was soft and full of pain. "A man found me during an episode. Took me from my mother. Used me for...terrible things. Taught me how to control it, how to lead. How to kill. He taught me many other things that I now know aren't right." And yet it was the memory of Nix that had saved his life. The thought confused and bothered him. "Love saved me. Love brought me here. And if you let it...love can save you, too." he fixed his face on Clarence, finally revealing his marred face- the still-healing gash and ear that had partially rotted off, to the mangled remains of his lip and the expose teeth, to the drooping eyelid covering a silver, sightless orb. [/size]

Clarence swallowed hard when the man nudged him and got to his feet. The boy moved forward hesitantly to try and help him to his feet, tail tucking against his hocks. This was his fault, his fault, his fault. He'd been the one to hurt Memory like this - he had ruined his life. 

But this was important. Searching for the pups. Patrolling. 

Crimson eyes, which had been glancing to the side as he followed the golden wolf out of the meeting place, shot up when Memory spoke. How was he not mad? The boy listened with rapt attention as the man spoke, ears pressed against his skull in shame. Oddly, Memory's story echoed his own in an eerie way. The skin on his ankle itched beneath his bracelet. 

Love could save him? That was a foreign concept to Clarence. He tried not to flinch when he saw the damage on the man's face - the damage he'd done - but his eyes did water a bit. His voice was hushed as he spoke. "What is love?" he asked quietly. "How do I know what love is?"

What is love? 

His heart broke. The kid hadn't even been loved by his own mother? 
He was silent, thinking about his answer while dropping his nose to the ground and trying to find a paw print, a puddle of stale urine, ANYTHING that said a pup had passed that way. When he spoke again, it was comforting. "There's different kinds of love. There the love for your pack, the determination to serve your Alpha. There's the love for your pups, or a pup for its parent. A warm, comfortable, safe feeling. But the love I'm talking about...is the love for a mate." He wondered if the kid had been told about mating and romance yet. "Its...you find someone. Someone-male or female- who you feel safe with. Who you want to be with, start a family. Who you would do anything to see happy, and they would do the same for you. Who makes your head feel fuzzy and stomach dizzy and the thought of losing them makes you hurt. Who makes you happy. That's love. It's so beautiful...and losing it hurts more than anything." 
His mind went to Connor- sweet, muddy pelted connor with the grey eyes and crooked smile, who nursed his wounds in exchange for food and den material Memory fought for. Who had smiled and told Memory he loved him, and forgave him, even as he gasped from under Memory's fangs, Nix leering over them. 

He blinked, not realizing he had shed a tear from his good eye.

Clarence, too, was looking for any sign of the children. His sensitive ears flicked this way and that, trying to pick up on any sound of little pawsteps through the brush. But there was nothing - sound or scent or sight - that suggested a pup had been through there at all. 

The man continued talking - defining the feelings of love. "I... don't think I met my parents. I don't remember them," he admitted sheepishly. The first memories he had were of a plasticky contraption placed in his mouth to feed him tasteless liquid that would sustain him until he developed teeth. So he couldn't relate to that. His pack was another story - he was developing a sense of duty to them. To help.

The love of a mate. Santiago popped into his head again and Clarence went through a mental checklist of the feelings.
Feel safe with? Check.
Want to be with? Check.
Start a family? To be decided. 
Would do anything to see happy? Check. 
Fuzzy and dizzy? Check, check.
Losing him? He'd never thought of it, but it caused his stomach to drop when Memory said it, so... Check.
Who makes you happy? ...Check.

Uh oh.

"I think I might-" he began, then broke off when he saw the tear from Memory's eye. "Hey, wait, are you... what happened?" he asked frantically, ears pressed back.

Shit. Nix's training surged to the forefront of his mind. Emotion is weakness. This is why you don't get attached. He swallowed and looked down at the kid. Well...he had told Valour. Might as well fess up. 
"A long time ago there was a wolf who was...very special to me." He answered solemnly. "The pack we were in was a lot like this one...but evil. Terrible. Lead by a man named Nix. But Connor...he was different. He had a heart. And we became best friends. I would bring him prey because I was a better fighter, and hide him in my den so the other pups wouldn't force him out. And then...we became more than friends." He sighed, looking down sadly at his paws. Now came the ugly part. The story he had never told anyone. The story even Valour didn't know. "We coupled...for the first time. Clumbsy, just pup experiments. Learning to love. Nix...heard me tell him I loved him. He was furious. Said it was unnatural and I was a waste of training...a dissapointment. And then....He made us fight to the death. Neither of us wanted to do it. The last thing he said to me was he loved me, and knew I didn't mean it. And he forgave me." He blinked back more years, steeling himself against the tide of emotion and vulnerability. A shudder ran through his body and when he spoke again his voice was choked. "I made it quick and painless. A bite to the throat. He was dead before he hit the ground." 

Clarence listened, almost completely forgetting about searching for the pups in order to pay attention to the man in front of him. While this was the first pack Clarence had been in, he definitely understood being forced to fight. He and Memory were a lot alike, he thought to himself. 

"I'm sorry," he said quietly when Memory finished his story, ears drooping and tail lowered. That would be awful to have to do to someone you cared about - loved, even. Clarence paused for several moments before he offered the brown wolf a smile. "Connor probably understood. You didn't have a choice. I would have understood. Being forced to fight... it..." He paused again, taking a deep breath. "I was made to fight, too. By two-legs, Santiago calls them. I was kept in tiny spaces and only brought out for fights. I killed, too." Nobody he had an attachment to, that he could remember, but he hadn't been social back then. He swallowed hard and lowered his head, ears burning with shame. "And... being with a boy isn't unnatural or gross. I think. I hope." Red eyes turned back to Memory's scarred face. "Do you think you'll be able to find someone again?" he asked, voice hushed.

Hearing Connor speak, it made sense. He had sensed it, the touch of man, especially the bracelet. He gave a low growl. "Man brings nothing but destruction. They are filthy, cruel, wasteful creatures that are only useful as prey for the sick and weak." He spat bitterly. Man had robbed him of Thorn, the man who had promised him a better life here in the Teetons. He could see the shadow of shame over the kid and nuzzled his shoulder. 
"Never be ashamed of what you did to survive. That's what sets us apart from other wolves. We've seen things and done things other wolves couldn't possibly imagine."  
At the kids comment he gave a weak smile. " Depends on who you ask. But I think its cruel to demand the heart not follow what it wants. As for me...maybe. I dunno." 

Not all humans, Clarence thought vaguely, recalling the one man who opened the crates and let them free. Perhaps they weren't all cruel. But that wasn't important now. 

It was true - others, apart from Memory and Santiago, might never know how Clarence felt. That's what connected him to them so. A feeling of camaraderie and unity. "I think I will always be ashamed of it. But I'm going to do better in the future," he assured with a small smile. That, he was determined to do. 

"I think you'll find somebody. You're a nice man," he told Memory with a smile, pressing his head against the brown wolf's side as they walked along the border. He'd almost forgotten that they were patrolling. "Thank you for not being angry with me."

Memory smiled. There was hope for the young boy yet- especially with that hopeful attitude. 
"Wounds heal with time. You can't rush a wound. You just treat it, slowly and carefully." He frowned and gave a chuckle. "Oh for Fenrir's sake I'm starting to sound like my mother." His voice was one of amusement, but he also felt incredibly alone...where was Seraphina? Would she be proud of him? Would she still look for him? Or had Nix lied, boasted he was dead, laughed at her broken sobs? 
He didn't want to think about it. 
He was taken aback at being called nice. "I've been called a lot of things, kid. Nice has never been one of those things. Nice is a four letter word. Nice means naieve, clumbsy. You don't want to be nice. Good, Strong, Fair, maybe. But not nice."  He hadn't meant to blurt Nix's conditioning all over the boy, but here he was, repeating his own version of Nix's words. He hesitated, lowering his nose to the ground....there. what was that? Soaking a clump of grass, hours old- puppy urine. "C'mere. Think I found something." 

Clarence nodded slowly - he was beginning to learn that. But he had to be kind to himself and give himself the room he needed to heal and relax and not worry so much about forgetting his past and instead accepting himself. That he wasn't always as good as he was today.

"Nice doesn't mean those things," he told the man immediately, confused by his definition of the word. "Nice is... when you've been through a lot of bad things and choose to be kind anyway. It's strong." 

His nose wrinkled at the stale stench of urine, but it was a good sign. The boy trotted over to the puddle and sniffed, trying to spot any trail of paw prints nearby. "Where does the trail go? I can't hear anything," he told the man, ears swiveling wildly like a sonar.

He cocked his head at the kid's explanation. Could nice mean all of those things? Nix had never told him. Nix had claimed kindness was weak, that love was a distraction. Nix had sharpened him into a blade, raised him to be just as broken and heartless as himself. 
But that wasn't entirely right...was it? 

He shook off the circular thoughts and refocused on the task at hand. Tracking. 
"A flattened bit of grass...he was crouching here."  He gestured to the sign. It was a bit difficult with one eye, but he managed. Finding the scent he followed it a few paces, then his heart sank. "A few tufts of fur....I..." He searched the area, hoping...but nothing. "It stops here." 

The stopping of the trail could mean anything, Clarence thought. But his mind immediately went to what Memory might've been thinking as well - a predator had picked one of the pups off. He shook his head and cleared his throat. 

"There's no blood or signs of a struggle," he explained, nosing around the area. It really sucked - his ears were far better than his nose. "Maybe the rain just washed the rest of it away."

He nodded...hoping the other was right. 

"Eagle or a big owl wouldn't show much struggle. Still- lets go tell them what we found. At least it's something." 

He turned, padding back to the dens.

Yeah, that was a good idea. Even if Memory was wrong and the pup hadn't gotten snatched up, it was important to tell the others. Maybe this could lead to helping find her. 

Quietly, the piebald boy followed the older wolf.

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