Coconut Grove sometimes they fall down for no reason at all

a heaviness weighed against his shoulders. the ghost plodded forward through the damp sands with every intention of getting as close to the sound as he could. ahead of him, dark storm clouds were billowing over the mountains and spreading out beyond the sea. the wind brushed through his ashen coat, promising that the weather would reach him within the hour. as if to cement that vow, a brilliant flash of lightning rippled across the dark swatch of grey. several beats passed before thunder filled the air around him.
 
illidan lowered his crown and sniffed at the sand. there were familiar scents there. his mind was too heavy for him to realize just how well he knew them – how close he had come to some of them before he had vanished. near to where he stood on the beach, the lost son could smell that a pack had claimed the neighboring terrain. his goal was to skirt around it as far as he could manage without drawing attention to himself.

Rare was he to visit the sea, staring from afar but yet to truly step into its embrace since their return to the coast. He questioned it still, wondered when it might be angered again—and if that anger would be enough to wipe them all out this time, or if they would stand tall against the threats. Whatever the future may hold in store, he could not cower from the waves any longer; it was with hardly a whisper to the others that he left Rusalka’s claim, course set for the sea. To feel the water through his fur, the salt against his skin—

Drawing nearer yet to the ocean, the crack of lightning and boom of thunder from the skies made him consider turning back. If ever there was a time to avoid the sea, it was during a storm. But before he could make that decision himself, it was made for him by a familiar face.

In the distance, he saw a ghost. He froze up, stiff-legged and uncertain, before bounding towards her with a loud bark—but the ghost was not the one he initially believed them to be. The closer he got, the more differences were noted, and the scent was all wrong; this wolf was male, yet vaguely familiar still. Too late to turn back now, surely to have already been noticed, he continued until he was within speaking range before coming to a dead stop. And whilst verbally silent, the questioning look in his eyes spoke a thousand words.

there was a call that was carried to him – the sound of a bark from someone he ought to have known.
 
illidan froze in his trek and turned with a weary expression toward the pale figure. ah, he thought, clenching his jaw tightly against the uneasy prick that he had forgotten this person. the ghost knew that this was someone he should have known. the name escaped him. the sound of the other’s voice was nothing but a distant memory that had been washed down by all of the terrible things that had happened since the fight with drageda.
 
the haggard young figure stood mutely to see if the pale figure would come closer or would opt to depart. something in the gaze of the other wolf seemed… knowing, hurt, but illidan did not know why or how this had happened. an uneasy sense of loss filled his gut. what have i done to you?

Even as he stood there, he could think of nothing to say. The other did not move, remaining where he stopped, and Aningan almost wondered if he was making a mistake. Did he truly know this male, or did he only wish to know him? Weary, he drew his tongue across his maw, thinking—thinking and thinking, wondering to himself silently whilst diving around through his own memories. He knew he recognised his face, he knew he’d known this stranger at some point, but where—why could he not recall more than that alone?

When finally the northerner spoke, all he could manage to say was, “You’re not Caiaphas.” An obvious statement. Terribly, painfully obvious. But… “But… I know you?” it came as a question, a wavering lilt to his voice. “Who are you?” Someone he once knew, seen primarily in passing—but someone he knew, in the back of his mind, that he should have remembered better.

‘you’re not caiaphas…’
 
he wasn’t wrong, of course. no matter how close the boy was to his mother, he was nothing like her. caiaphas had been strong and savage. illidan was weak; he did not have a purpose, as she had. as the boy’s mind roamed over the memories that he had of his mother, his expression saddened, and he lowered his head.
 
illidan didn’t want to answer the pale figure. he didn’t want to speak to someone who knew his mother well enough to have mistaken him for her. the thought stung him.
 
“illidan.”
 
his voice was gruff and ragged upon its release. the haunted glimmer of his eyes latched onto the white figure, wondering if he would be asked anything further, or if he would be asked to pay for the wrongdoings that his mother had wrought upon them.

Aningan was patient as he awaited an answer—curious but patient all the same. He swore he knew the other, even if only barely, and his suspicions were then confirmed: he did know this wolf, a former member of Rusalka. Having seen him only in passing before, he could not say that he knew the other male well. But the name was familiar and the appearance unmistakable.

“Are you here to come back to Rusalka?” he asked, wondering if the other still had ties there; his knowledge of the other was incredibly limited, their paths crossed at a time when the northerner sought a reclusive lifestyle. “Caiaphas isn’t there anymore... but Rosalyn and Erzulie are?” Would those names ring familiar with him?

"No." 

The reply was almost immediate. Before it left his lips, he regretted it. When Aningan mentioned Erzulie and Rosalyn, he felt his stomach churn. There was a shift in his gaze, but he did not say anything for several seconds. He did not want to make empty promises. 

"Raleska?" he asked before he could stop himself. There was a quavering in his voice. Was his sister still trying her best to hold everything together? Or had the world destroyed that in her?