Prodigal
The sky was painted a sickly grey, choked with clouds that made the atmosphere thick and cold. The sun was no where to be found but Azalea trusted her gut to figure that it was sometime in the later half of the evening. What little light there was should soon be lost all together.
A flurry had begun, fat white flakes swirling around the miss as she trekked across a land over-encumbered with snowfall as it was. Upon her back a dusting formed, and it contrasted it against her normally pale body. There was an upset in walk, an unnatural hiccup in her gait. Azalea looked rough, battered and slow moving as she traveled back to the land from whence she came. It had been an entire season nearly that she had been gone and it was with good reason.
Always the explorer, Azalea had gotten a little in over her head and had ended up taking a fall that broke her leg. She didn't know what to expect to find, probably not her pack. Her children were probably scattered around Alacritia and she could only be grateful that Sarak had been retrieved and on the mend before her little excursion took her beyond the northlands she called home.
Sparse Pines came up slowly. Azalea could recognize that landscape anywhere. The snow had stopped for now but seemed to be playing some game of "flash on, flash off." She prepared to edge around Sparse Pines but found herself stopped in her tracks as the wind shifted to reveal the scent of Regium. It was a throwback, a welcome one, that had her mouth gaping wide and her amber eyes locked upon the pine trees.
Regium? Here?
She proceeded with caution, moving to the border where she stopped to gaze around through slit eyes. Her neck extended, head hanging just over shoulder height as the she-wolf called out for friend or foe. She wondered who would answer. |
The little girl hadn't been here long, it was possibly the only thing she did know. Being around Roman, after all she did tend to leave without another word. Perhaps she got that from her mother. Sarka was at her full height now, which, wasn't very tall. However she was not the shortest of wolves, she knew that from seeing some others. The huge difference was her fragile body though, very slim, looking like her bones would break if you lightly tapped her. Sarka had always looked little, even if she wasn't the smallest. She had been dealing with her mothers disappearance on her own, she cried forever the second night. She ran away, until the man known as "father" came along. After that, even her siblings had felt distant, and her dad was a total stranger to her.
She met some good wolves though, a pup much like her. Though his name she did not know, because like her he did not speak. As her little white paws carried her to the sound, her crystal eyes sitting on that dark head of hers widened. Her mother? Sarka's jaw locked, she felt like she was going to go into a clear panic mode. Her muscles tightened and she swallowed, just watching the larger woman. Sarka didn't know how to react, to run into her arms, to be mad, no she couldn't ever be mad it wasn't in her DNA. Her tail drooped a little as she crawled onto her stomach inching a little closer. The only way she knew how to approach and still feel comfortable without freaking out as she looked up at her mother. |
There was movement in the frozen brush before she could even finish howling. The fear of unknown danger jumped inside of here. Here was familiar but it was always where she had been imprisoned. This was a place that held wolves she loved and hated and if she were to be taken by an enemy, there would be no fight in her to escape.
When a face finally appeared Azalea gasped. In her surprise she took a step back, right paw touching the ground and her weight falling onto it. She winced, leg jumping away from the cursed ground once more. She had been taken care of in her absence by a kind stranger... but they were no healer and the only thing Azalea knew to do was to keep the limb in line so that it could mend itself without being warped.
Before her was her daughter, Sarka. The dainty girl dropped to the ground and crawled forward. Azalea's ears pulled back and her head lowered to try and show the forever timid child that she meant no harm. Her leg pulsed, aching from the weight she had put on it.
"Sarka, my child, I need you to tell me: Who is in charge?" She looked her child in the eyes and hoped to get a vocal answer. She had always hoped that Sarka would grow out of her mute ways.
A warmth grew inside of her, dulling the ache, as she remembered the pup that had been her silent shadow. If one was here, were the others? "I'm sorry I was gone, darling. I'm so sorry." She felt fragile to apologize but it was needed. Not for the first time she owed her children an apology for abandoning them. Once by choice, this time by the crumbling rocks of the cliffside where a rabbit had outsmarted her. |
In many ways, Roman Armada had been baffled in her days. She'd long since grown accustomed to wolves randomly disappearing in her life and then returning. Nothing could have prepared her for the howl that rang through the pines.
Azalea Adravendi. Well I'll be damned, she thought.
She pulled herself sharply to her feet, pausing for a moment to gain her balance again, as her vision swam black. She was too fucking fat for this shit. Gods- these pups needed to be born. Shaking her head, to clear her vision she bounced forward, picking up an unsteady and very slow lope towards the borders. Her swollen stomach through off her balance at best, constantly making her feel like she'd fall over sideways and roll down a hill.
Finally she drew close, and as she came in sight of her- she also saw Sarka there. Roman slowed, willing to give the two a moment before emerging at Azalea's question. "That would be me." She spoke, as she approached the pair. Her tone was soft, far softer since Sarka was in presence and she didn't want to scare her. As she waddled to a halt, she eyed Azalea. "You need to see a healer." She remarked. Until now, her face had remained neutral- a carefully gaurded mask. "It's been a while, Azalea. What poor fool did you beat up on to hurt your damn leg?" At last a soft smile pulled at her jaws. "Shall I call for a healer?" She offered, unsure of the she-wolf's plans. Roman sank back heavily onto her haunches, giving her stomach another disgruntled look, before turning her gaze back to Azalea.
Greek Speak -- Roman Speak |
In the end there was no need for Sarka to say anything at all, for at that moment another wolf appeared. Her words came first, their sound alone was enough to put a smile on Azalea's face. "That would be me." Her gaze turned, angling to the white wolf with her abstract markings. The Armada wolf she called her friend, Roman. It made full sense that Regium stood with her at the helm.
There was a softness lent to the great she-wolf's tone and the Adravendi woman didn't have to wonder why. Little shy Sarka, so quick to flight, was probably even more so since Azalea's disappearance. There was no emotion on the wolf's face though and Azalea stood silent and still as she was taken in by the Queen. In this silence she too took a gander, her eyes wandering over Roman to find the female heftier than when last seen.
When the pack was given to Azalea it had been after Roman miscarried and now it would appear that she had made it well past the point of no return. "You need to see a healer." A brow spot jumped as she fixed Roman with a look, "Sure you aren't in need of one yourself?" Her comment was geared at just how well rounded Roman was, likely very near to going into labor. She shouldn't be out and about let alone greeting wolves at the border. Alas, here they were and Azalea's tone made it clear that she did not want to go see a healer now.
"It's been a while, Azalea. What poor fool did you beat up on to hurt your damn leg?" The stalemate would break as Roman's tone seeped in the glee to have her friend returned and Azalea snorted. "Shall I call for a healer?" Sher wrinkled her nose, the skin on her muzzle crinkling up for a moment. "No, not now. As for what happened to my leg... I'm afraid I'm the poor fool. I went high up north, it was only supposed to be a short trip... well, I was chasing a rabbit and had a cliff give out on me. Hell, I probably would have been fine but a rock hit my leg pretty good and there was a lovely snapping sound involved. It hurt like a son of a bitch and I could hardly move."
Her eyes cast to Sarka, looking to see if she was paying attention. Did Sarka care about her reasons or would she be like Kismet and Soren and hold it against her. "Some weird old wolf found me and helped me stay alive but she knew nothing about healing so I spent weeks lying around just trying not to move my leg. I think its healing pretty good on my own... but it still hurts like a son of a bitch."
She wobbled a bit where she stood, wanting to sit down but at the same time not wanting to show her weakness in the struggle it would take to lower herself without flinching in pain. She was slightly underweight below that plush winter coat of hers and her coat was marred with dirt and who knows what else. Azalea wanted to draw the attention away from herself, eyes searching Roman's and Sarka's now. "Where are the others? Raziel, Azael...Kismet. Soren?" |
Her mother was hurt, that concerned her. She was no healer, that making a whine leave her throat as she sat up letting the snow fall of her coat. As she spoke, Sarka let her ears pull against the back of her skull. Though must to her pleasure came Roman which prevented her from having to speak. Regardless whether that was a bad thing or not, she could always think more clearly in the silence of her own head. Listening to others was far easier than speaking specially when she had such a weak voice other than her howl. As she watched the pregnant alpha speak as well as she exchange words with her mother. A question directed itself at them, and of course she knew Roman wouldn't know where they were. Sarka knew where her true brothers were, but those.....boys, her mother called them sons who knew where they were. It always seemed like they had never been around in the first place. It made the girl shake her head. She supposed it was best to say even if it was only a few words.
"Brothers are with Sarak, Kismet and Soren I don't know." Sarka said softly before swallowing and stopping her speech. She didn't want to say anything else. She was more concerned about the well being of her mother than anything. This very well could be all her fault, she wasn't a good enough daughter. She didn't do things the way she should have. It made her shiver slightly lowered her head as she tried to keep herself from crying. What a failure she was at even breathing. |
There is an odd feel to it really as she stared at the red faced wolf. The odd Adravendi whom... well, Gods only knew how she and Roman got along. How had the daughter of the Armada King and a wolf he had forced himself upon... ended up as friends? Azalea spoke, and Roman's ears flattened at her words. "Bah! Are you implying that I'm fat?" She shot back, a wry smile pulling at her black lips. A soft chuckle left her, "While my King is quite capable of tending to the borders, I thought it best to drag my fat ass out here when I heard your call. Figures you'd hurt yourself and need a friendly face." She quips, but there is a teasing gleam in her eyes, accompanied with a slight smile.
Azalea didn't seem to want a healer, and though Roman wanted to push the issue she kept quiet, her eyes studing the other she-wolf as she launched into her tale about how she'd hurt her leg. Roman nodded as the story drew to a close. "Did the hare get away?" She asked, with a wry smile pulling at her jaws. Part of her deeply sympathized, and the rest nearly wanted to double over chuckling at her story. A broke leg for a hare? Roman watched as Azalea's formed wobbled slightly, and she started to step forward before halting herself. She didn't like anyone to draw attention to her when she was hurt and from what she could tell of Azalea... she was probably the same. Her brow furrowed, wrinkling her tribal markings as she gave Azalea a searching look, and her face relaxed slightly as she spoke.
As if this encounter could get any weirder. Sarka spoke. Roman's eyes widened slightly at the girl, she'd scarcely ever heard a noise leave her lips. Roman shook her head. "I've never met Kismet- but I've not ran into Soren either." She only knew Soren's scent, as she'd never spoke with the male, but he resided in Regium for a short time. "I ran into Surreal in the West, in the willows. I believe Sarak was a Vahallan? Surreal may know where he is?" She offered what little information she had, and fell silent. She had scented other wolves when she ran into Surreal- but she wasn't sure if the rest of the Valhallans that hadn't found another pack were there or not.
Greek Speak -- Roman Speak |
Sarka cried quietly upon her approach but drew back when requested to speak. Azalea couldn't help but feel a touch of disappointing to find her only daughter still so timid. Roman's appearance was a god send to the child. "Bah! Are you implying that I'm fat?" Roman would reply to Azalea's question and she would grin like a cheshire cat at her Armada friend, "As a planet." Her words were clearly in jest but she still took a jostling step back to avoid any fanged backlash.
"While my King is quite capable of tending to the borders, I thought it best to drag my fat ass out here when I heard your call. Figures you'd hurt yourself and need a friendly face." Azalea's body vibrated with her quiet laughter.
Azalea told her tale of what had happened and could see the amusement in Roman's face. Perhaps, she thought, next time she told the story she would beef it up some. "Did the hare get away?" First there was a look of confusion, then her ears flattened giving Roman an unamused look before a smirk wormed its way onto her face. "Clearly that's what you're intended to be concerned about."
As she wobbled on her feet Roman watched her closely, giving her a bit of a stink eye as she knew as well as Aza did that she did need a healer. Turning the conversation topic away from her proved a good distraction. Her question drew an answer from Sarka, who spoke her bit quietly before growing quiet once more, shrinking back as she did. "Brothers are with Sarak, Kismet and Soren I don't know." Azalea would smile kindly at her dainty daughter.
It was good to know that Raziel and Azael were with their father, and that their father was assumed well. Azalea teetered over to Sarka, leaning in to press the end of her muzzle into her child's forehead. She would close her eyes, breathing in and sighing slowly before she pulled back shortly. "Oh, how I did miss you, my girl." She would say quietly, eyes on Sarka's.
Roman spoke then, "I've never met Kismet- but I've not ran into Soren either." Azalea forgot that the Armada hadn't met the large part of her near and dear family. "I ran into Surreal in the West, in the willows. I believe Sarak was a Vahallan? Surreal may know where he is?" She would nod.
Her look became a bit troubled, stepping away from her daughter to speak directly to Roman. "I, The word drew out, "Don't know if I will be staying with Regium... if you would have me, anyway. Can I ask a favor, though? A messenger sent to the willows to tell my blood and extended family that i live." |
'As a planet'. Azalea would say and Roman would gasp in outrage. Her lips curled over her gums as she looked at herself. A low growl left her, though it was good natured- accompanied by a slight wag of her tail. "Careful, I may just sit on you." She said with a lofty tone. There was a slight pull of a smile to her jaws, as her mouth relaxed. Though she fixed Azalea with a glare. Roman didn't want to make a huge scene in front of Sarka- no she'd get Azalea back later. Perhaps by dropping a mini-avalanche of snow on her from one of the pine trees.
Roman would let out a snort as Azalea commented on Roman's question about the hare- and the Queen would give her a wide smile. Roman fell quiet as Azalea spoke to her daughter- her eyes studying the girl. Her attention quickly shifted to the red faced queen as she stepped towards Roman- speaking to her again. Roman listened attentively, and nodded slightly. "You need to take time to think. You will always be welcome here- but I want you to do what you want." She said softly, and then added. "I'll travel down there myself. Rest here Azalea. Your family can come to you here." Her tone was firm. She would travel South- before she left such a task to any of her pack. Her pups weren't due for a while yet- Roman could make the journey easily. "Any wolf in particular you want me to deliver the message too?" She inquired. |
ooc: I'm not sure what to do about Sarka- since Riv left Ala and she hasn't been readopted out?