Blackfeather Woods Black as night. Cold as winter.

Maybe @Kenneth would like to hop in? I'm so interested to see what their reactions on eachother would be :o

A day, dark as it would only happen during the worst days of spring made the forest even more gloomy than any other day. Damien liked the feel it added to the place, the sensation of solitude enhanced and the fluttering of the birds above which made you feel watched. It was spooky, but only for those who weren't acustomed to the aura of the forest. Damien had been born in it. It was just home.

Damien's interactions with Potema had come to a minimum, not because he didn't love her anymore, but because he felt useless by her side unlike Cicero or Meldresi would. He couldn't heal his sister like them, but he would find a way to avenge her. He would find whoever had done it and he would make sure it didn't happen again. That's the way he would be more useful.

There was a huge suspect in the whole situation, everyone had seen the way Grimnir had threatened Potema that day during the group gathering, and Damien was smart enough to connect the threads of the web this situation had created. He was starting to act more like one of Mephala's spiders.

He moved through the shadows, using them on his favor to go unnoticed. He was looking for the bastard again. Grimnir had been absent for a few days now, and the search for him got even more frustrating as the days passed by. He decided that his scent was still strong enough, he hadn't left the forest, he was hiding. Coward.

:D

Kenneth had been away from Blackfeather Woods for a while, but he had a reason on why he had taken a leave. Wanderlust had struck him once more and he found himself unable to resist the tugging in his gut that drew him faraway from his new home and into another region altogether. He had met a couple of loners there and offered a place for them in the woods but they had either refused outright or told him they would think about it. The exiled prince knew his pack was not home to many wolves, with the tall, towering trees, the thick canopies that shielded those who walked beneath the leaves from the sunlight.

It was altogether a place for vampires, but Kenneth felt at home there, for unlike the place where he was born where white pelts were preferred with the snow and all, here, darkness ruled and shadows belonged. The exiled boy had a pelt of the midnight sky and he blended in brilliantly, he was able to stalk other wolves, hunt more effectively than ever. The one flaw he had were his eyes, they were the color of a fresh blanket of snow and they stood out when he attempted to hide.

But they would come in use, not many wolves here had seen pure white eyes before and if he could use them to his advantage, he would be able to scare them witless. Perhaps Kenneth could use it to aid his search for the white pup's attacker. The image of her lying in the swamps haunted him wherever he went, whether it be when he was awake or asleep and he was determined to find who did it.

Bastard. Who would kill the Alphess's daughter for god's sake? It was just inviting danger and death most of all, with the woods being the brotherhood's base. Whoever attacked the girl was an idiot, coward and an utter beast altogether. Today, Kenneth slunked through the woods, lost in deep in thought until his eyes caught the form of a youth, another child of Meldresi's. 

Sorry for the delay... Been busy with the formation of HP and finals :P

The time he spent in the shadows was the time when he felt most in control of everything. If he knew how to do it right, he would be able to silently get into a conversation for good information. If he knew what path to take, he would be able to get as far as he wanted, even dissapear, and no one would even know it. But today it seemed like he had lacked the focus he needed to do that, because he had been surprised by an adult, one that on his sight, made Damien's full attention fall into him.

The wolf was tall and broad, black as night, and his face made the pup's memories itch. Those eyes he had only seen on two wolves in his entire life. In the wolf that he knew he once learned to call "dad", and on himself. No one else. It wasn't a surprise that the night boy became uterly curous about them.

"Who are you?" the boy asked staring directly, and intensely, into the Borealem's eyes. He even tilted his head in bewilderment. There had to be a story behind those eyes that would answer all the boy's questions, but he would need to ask the right ones.

The child turned and looked at him, it had his pelt, one of the shadows and darkness and his eyes to match, though he bore a white patch on his chest. It made the exiled wolf wonder who was the father, for he had only known Meldresi as one of the parents but had never known who had fucked her and given her kids. But those eyes, those eyes that looked like frozen ice, like a fresh layer of snow, gave the black wolf a sort of hint. What it was though, he did not know.

At the boy's question, the exiled prince simply stared back into the night child's eyes as he contemplated how to answer. A shadowy smile touched his dark features as he cocked his head in a birdlike manner and answered softly, "Kenneth," he said and with an afterthought, added "Kenneth...Gloom."  His smile switched briefly to a smirk before vanishing altogether. 

The way Kenneth smiled at him and stared right into his eyes brought images to the adolescent pup's mind. Brighter images, but with the same white eyes. He knew he had seen those eyes before, not only on him, but he thought he would never again see them in anyone else.

Those were his father's eyes.

Damien's mind went into a shock state as the images and memories of his few interactions with Bane ran through, and for a moment Damien felt the need to cry. A single tear, not exactly of sadness or joy, ran down his cheek. But he didn't feel anything different. He was just confused. But then another thought crossed his mind. Ohen had white eyes too, and he wasn't related to him as far as he knew, so why would this one be?

"I'm Damien Mehrunes. Meldresi is my mother..." he said, just the way he did when he introduced himself with any other wolf. "Where do you come from?"

Kenneth watched with eyes the color of fresh snow as a tear ran down the shadow child's cheek and he did not know what to do. If he was in Damien's place, he would not wish for any comfort or pity, but only a moment to be alone to compose himself. So that was what he gave the pup, the bastard's features betrayed nothing, remaining as stoic as ever, though many thoughts ran through his head. He was still wondering who the child's father was, for it could not be Meldresi who gave the kid his eyes, hers had been a dark blue color, it had to be the father.

The question was, who was Damien's father?

Kenneth inclined his head politely as the shadow child introduced himself as Damien Mehrunes and that Meldresi was his mother. He restrained himself from asking who his father was, but he could feel the curiosity burning beneath his breast, the words dancing at the tip of his tongue, wishing to be spoken. But he told himself, now was not the time.

Instead, the exiled prince answered the boy's question. "From the North," he said, "a place named Ziragon Bosk." The ebony coated male shifted his weight and thought for a moment before continuing, "It was a land of white, the land was white, the trees were covered with snow and everything was cold. Even the wolves who inhabited the land had coats of snow and eyes of ice. Their eyes weren't simply silver, or even pale silver. Their eyes are like mine, white, pure white, if you look closely you'll see the difference between pale silver and my white eyes. You have our eyes."

Kenneth tilted his head slightly, wondering if he should voice his questions now but decided against it. "Once in a while, a child with a pelt of night is born, like mine. We are a disgrace to our king and packmates, to the land, I was shunned and declared a bastard and took on the name of Gloom instead of the family name Borealem. My twin brother on the other hand was the perfect prince, all silvery white with white eyes."

The tear that ran down Damien's cheek seemed to hold no feelings or emotions behind it, but rather a blank coldness and uncertainty. Why Bane had abandoned his pups was a question that had never crossed Damien's mind, instead, all he could think about it was: Who was Bane? The pup had never got to know his dad enough to take a liking or even an attachment to him, and although he had felt bad about his departure it was because he'd seen a model in him. So imposing. Damien wanted to be that.

"You have our eyes..." said Kenneth suggestively.

"But I am not from the North..." the teen said with trouble, "I was born here, I have never left this place..." he claimed denying the possibility of having any ties to Ziragon Bosk and its wolves.

Damien listened carefully at the Gloom's story, storing every piece of information, and couldn't help thinking the the final part of it sounded utterly familiar. Silvery white with white eyes. That's how his absent father looked, or at least, that's how he remembered it. Laying in the snow, camouflaged by it, sounded a lot like someone who came from that Ziragon Bosk Kenneth was talking about. Impressed, confused and with hesitation and a shaky voice, the night child lowly said:

"I... I think I know your twin..."

The boy spoke, stating he was not from the North, that he was born here and had never left the place. Kenneth never implied that he hadn't been born in Blackfeather Woods, it would be a brilliant feat to have brought a young pup from Ziragon Bosk to Teekon Wilds alive. These wilds were way south of the North, green lands that have never known the cold touch of true winter, the boy was too young to have traveled so far. It was not possible for him to be born in the North, but to be a relative of one....

Kenneth's fierce white gaze was locked on Damien's dark form as the teen spoke with hesitation and a shaky voice, he supposed the shadow child was still a boy after all, no matter how much an adult he was becoming. Ken didn't know what he had expected. For the boy to be like him? Young and already too mature? No...Damien had been born in Blackfeather Woods as a prince, a loved prince of the night queen. Ken had been a prince too, but unlike Damien, he was shunned, scorned and hated. A bastard prince.

The words the child spoke did not seem to surprise him, like he had known it all along, even if he hadn't. "His name was Keithen, though he went by Keith," Kenneth studied the boy for any signs of recognition from the name before wondering if he should name his brother's alter ego. Deciding he wouldn't take any chances, he did, "But he had another half, another name. He was also called Bane."

Kenneth didn't seem surprised at all when Damien told him that he knew who his twin was, but Damien wasn't surprised to see that Kenneth was expecting it either. He'd seemed aware of it since the very beginning even though he probably knew it was unlikely to ever find trace of his twin again. Damien had had a little time of connection with his father, but it had been so long ago, and he had been so young that not even a name had remained in his memory.

"I don't know what he's called. But he left long ago..." the pup said, this time looking right at Kenneth's white eyes, those eyes that he had already seen so long ago. His own eyes.

The pup wasn't completely sure that he wanted to see his biological father ever again, or that he would have the oportunity to do so, but he was sure that there was a void space in his heart, and it was the space Bane had left when he abandoned the pack, when he abandoned his pups. "He's not part of my life anymore."

Deep down, Kenneth did miss his twin brother and he knew he would also wish to have Keithen by his side once more. Twins were meant to be with each other after all, they could not absolutely nothing to change it. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he would see his white brother before he died, not that he was going to die so soon. Casting those thoughts away, the black bastard's white eyes turned to Damien once more as the teen said he did not know who his twin was called but he had left a long time ago and that he' was not part of the shadow child's life any more.

"He was your father wasn't he?" Kenneth asked with a small tilt of his proud ebony crown. "Your biological father, I mean," remembering that Damien had another father figure now, and probably a better one than Keithen would ever be. 

For all Damien cared Burke was his father now, biological or not. He had been there longer than Bane, and he had seen him grow. All Bane had managed to do was leaving a void space in the dark pup's heart, and probably in his siblings' too. That is not being a father, not even if his northern blood ran through the brood's veins.

"Burke is my father..." the pup claimed, denying to himself the fact that he had been abandoned by his progenitor. Then Damien turned his gaze away, avoiding eye contact with the older male. It showd in his body language that he did not want to talk about the topic, but he still didn't leave his place, troubled inside on if he really didn't care about his origins. He was growing older and more intelligent with every passing day, and this was one of the main concerns in his head, his identity.

"Have you... Have you thought of joining the Brotherhood?" Damien spoke, trying to switch topics but not ending the conversation with -apparently- his uncle. He felt a strange connection with him, like his blood was pulling him towards this stranger.

A sad smile graced the black northerner's features at the shadow child's claim. "Burke is your father," Kenneth said, the same smile still on his face. "But Bane is your biological dad, whether you like it or not." My brother, no, Bane is still as irresponsible as ever, huh, I should have known. Being the favored child of their parents, their beautiful, perfect, handsome little prince would have some kind of effect on Keithen. The exiled prince could only hope that his sons and daughter would not turn out the same way their biological father had. But by the looks of it, things were not going very well. After all, Damien, Cicero and Potema were princes and princesses, children of the Queen. It wouldn't surprise him to know if they grew up to be arrogant wolves.


Damien changed the subject, and while Kenneth wanted to keep speaking about his brother, he realized that the child was probably troubled and wished to have time to think about it by himself. While Damien might be a prince, he somehow reminded him of himself. No, he's a goddamned prince, a spoiled brat, he doesn't understand being a bastard, don't help him, don't protect him. Even he says he's no son of Bane, says Burke is his father, you don't have to be responsible to help him!


Perhaps. Life was weird, full of twists and turns and unexpected surprises. Kenneth should have known something queer would happen when he decided to make a home out of Blackfeather Woods. "Yes," the bastard replied to the boy. "Though I don't think murdering for someone else is the job for me," it was too dishonorable. 

Editing an end to archive and for EXP purposes...

His answer was pathetic. How could it be different killing someone for another than killing for yourself? Killing was always the same, always as exciting. At least that's how it was in Damien's inexperience. He would be a Dark Brother one day, he was meant to be, and he would gladly kill histarget come the time. He would be prepared.

Damien tilted his head at the male, confused by his answer. "Why not?" he asked. It was weird hearing that, all the wolves he'd known thus far had been maniacs and no problem with ending a life. Why was Kenneth different? The pup knew that his father Bane had been a Dark Brother before disappearing, and that meant that he had no problem with killing another, even if it was for someone else. Why would his brother be different?

Their conversation was not deep from there. Kenneth was evasive and blunt, and Damien couldn't do much else to get information out of him and gave up eventually. But one thing was clear. Kenneth was his uncle, brother of his biological father, and a clue to why he had been abandoned.