Vitus was confused. It was rather often that he was confused, especially when it came to emotions. He didn’t know much about the feelings that coursed through him, or about the tension and how much his family seemed to be stinging. He didn’t understand this pain that coursed through him first with Roman’s death then with the family having to move...and now. Now, he didn’t know what to even think. It was almost overwhelming for his young age. Well, no, it was overwhelming. He often found himself pacing, his den had large circles indented into it, tracks he had left in his fear of venturing too far away from the family that needed...something. Something that Vitus could be he was just unsure what it meant. They needed something to depend on, because everything was falling apart..He didn’t know. Vitus didn’t know! With a deep growl he stomped from the packlands, feeling anger flare up within him. He was angry. No, Vitus was furious, and he did not know why! And that...that was like gasoline on the fire, he continued to flare more and more and more. So..he fled. He ran, he bounded away from his family and the guilt was instant. But he had to know, he had to understand why everything felt so...wrong. Why he felt so angry. Why there was pain, and what exactly was he missing? He fled to the only place he knew outside of his new land, to a place where everything had started out wonderful, where he knew where he stood. The second he felt the snow under his paws, the moment the crisp air bit at his skin, he knew exactly where that was. Trees stood above him when he finally stopped, panting through the chill air that froze in the air around him. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he tilted his head back and closed his bright eyes tightly. He clenched his toes, scrapping at the snow before he dropped his head again and turned, pressing his forehead against the bark of a pine. He missed it here, missed the life he had known, missed his family when everything was right. But the more he thought, the more he understood...it had never been right. Ever since he was born, it had been wrong. His Father had fled, his mother had spent days...weeks searching for him. Some things just...weren’t right, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it. With a growl he opened his eyes again, snapping his jaws closed and wrinkling the skin along his nose. Hair stood up on end along his spine as he turned again to look around. Nothing was right, and he didn’t know how to fix it! Months had gone by, his family had fallen apart (where they ever right to being with?) before he even reached his full height. He had been young (he was still young!) to know what to do about it, but Vitus was growing by the day, filling out, reaching his height. Summer was in the air, and he was nearly a year old….He would become a wall, a force to be reckoned with, and he would learn how to deal with it all, how to put everything right again. But first...he had to understand. Growling to himself again, he swished his tail, bright green-red eyes narrowing before he threw his head back again. His throat burned and scratched as he garbled a call for his father, unsure if he could hear it. It hurt, it hurt to call, to make the sound, and he choked and coughed as he brought his head down. He could taste acid and copper as he coughed, unknowing of the damage a single call did to his vocal cords. But he had to try, he needed to understand, and the only way to do so was to start with the man that seemed to have pulled the building block that brought it all down. He needed to understand. "Burn Baby Burn"

He was getting a little better, but on discovering Glaciem was not for him, he had to move on. He was vulnerable without a pack that much was obvious, so the male spent his time hiding. Sparse pines was perfect for finding small prey, but his bones still stuck out of his body because he was indeed starving. His wounds were scabbed over, stuck, and painful because there was no healer around to heal him. He made sure to clean them off daily but it would probably be best to find a pack willing to assist him. Vereux didn't want to be away from the north, but it looked like he'd have to if he actually wanted to be in a pack. Though it was a call that brought his head up from his resting spot. A rather frustrated call, something he hadn't heard before. Alarm struck him firm, was that a pup lost? It sounded young, hurt, and even more so confused. Bringing himself to his paws the one eyed man stretched, his neck scar pulling against the fur tissue that was on the edges of it. Trotting in the soft snow, pulling through the tree's to the source of the call and stopped in his tracks. Vitus, one of his sons, how he'd grown but still he hadn't expected that he had always been a quiet one. The weak male would step forward, obvious distress was displayed in his boy. And Vereux knew the difficult time they were having. He had already discussed it with Athena, she belonged with Amalia and it gave him time to visit his children and then start being her brother once more. Though his dark ears pinned back slightly, hoping his sons anger wasn't gestured towards him. “Vitus, what is wrong are you alright?” he wheezed softly, shaking his slightly moist fur from cleaning his wounds last. It made his ribs less noticeable but they were still apparent. He made himself a little less threatening but made sure to pay attention to Vitus' body language just incase he didn't wish to speak. He had learned how to read it after Arian being so quiet for some time. “I speak”

The moment...the second he heard someone approaching he spun towards the sound. The skin along his lips wrinkled and pulled away to show his shining canines, now strong adult teeth. His bright stunning eyes were narrowed as he glared at the man who was his father. He barely recognized him, and he certainly did seem a little worse for ware. His white fur clung along his ribs, and the scent of herbs overtook his senses. The man was wounded, and a small part of Vitus was pleased with it, another part concerned, but the rest was still angry. This was the man Vitus was predestined to look up too, the man who had reared him and who was supposed to be his role model This was the man who hurt his mother, who’s disappearance took away vital hours, days...weeks of bonding and affection that he and his brothers would never return. And yet, here he was, torn and beaten and half starved. Vitus nearly pittied him. Well, he would if he knew what pity was. With a deep sigh he shook his head, turning his stunning eyes away from his father for a moment. He asked what was wrong, and Vitus’ throat burned too much for him to say. He had harmed himself to summon his father, who had since now been unable to be summoned. He suddenly began to cough, hack as the trickling of copper slipped down his throat. It hurt, but he ignored it. "You.." He rasped with difficulty, coughing as the word stung at his vocal cords again. Eyes turned back to him before he bared his teeth again, glaring. "’ou...back...why?" He asked in his rasping voice, feeling something begin to sting at his eyes. Never in Vitus’ life had he cried or even make much of a sound, and yet this man had somehow managed to pull all that from him. Somehow. "Ma...’as hurt..." Nails bit at the ground as he tried to control the raging anger inside of him, as well as ignore the ache in his throat. "E-ev….ything...br’ken.." He began to cough again, hacking, whining as it burned and scrapped. Yet he continued to stand strong, proud, his watering eyes narrowing as he quickly regained his stance after his coughing fit. The only thing that held him back from the fires of his rage was the idea that his mother could use no more pain. "Speech"

Did him coming back to his home land fuck things up so badly? Why couldn't they just forget about him instead of worry about what went on. Though Vereux wouldn't voice these things out loud, he knew, if he had been strong enough, if he had the strength to escape being enslaved they wouldn't be there. But, only Bacc knew about that. He hadn't wanted to leave, he'd never just up and leave a family like that. Though, Amalia seemed to think he had. He wanted to scream so loud at the top of his lungs his frustration and how the world turned its back on him exactly as his mother and father had. It came to his realization, what about these boys, was he doing the same thing his father had done. No, he cared about his children, all Isardis had cared about was reproducing to the point where his gene's could surpass everyone, he was selfish. Vereux would stay calm in front of Vitus, his ears flicking a bit. “I was born here, that's why I'm back. I didn't leave because I wanted to before so I fought with all my strength to return to my home” he would explain clearly. “Your mother is my sister and that is how it will stay because she is with Amalia now. Hate me or like me Athena said she would be bringing you boys to visit if you wished but it's up to you what you want to do.” maybe the boy didn't understand but he was young. It wasn't his fault. “Don't you ever blame yourself Vitus, and don't let anyone hurt your family. I'm going to tell you what I told Bacchus, get strong so that you aren't weak enough for someone to take control of your life. Listen to me don't listen to me it's up to you but I love all of you I'd die if that was really what all of you wanted.” he shook his head. “Don't speak if it's hard, I spent many days in silence in a dark cave filled with rats, I'm used to being ignored and kicked around by now.” Vereux worried greatly for this family. But ultimately it was his nephews and sons that seemed to get the brunt of it and everyone of them was different. “Why am I even telling this to a child, I was never cut out to be a father, I'm a horrible wolf for being taken away from my home in the first place.” he muttered small tears falling from his eyes. He turned around, he was fighting with himself so hard while still trying to make amends with his family. And the sickening realization was, he couldn't make it happen with all of them. In the end he was destined to fail, all because he was one of many. He was part of the origonal Armada litter and yet he and Athena even his brother Genesis got the short end of the stick. “I speak”