Walk | Talk | Think It was most unusual for Miksa to venture any distance away from his home in the north. Glaciem was typically the only lands that he could ever be found in, the only place that he really felt comfortable, but the quietness there was starting to get to him. He enjoyed the place, no doubt about it, but there were simply so few of them and so much that each of them needed to do that he felt like a burden even thinking of seeking out one of his pack mates to socialize. Not to mention he hardly knew the first thing he should do in order to let them know he wanted company. With his awkwardness, the boy had traveled south, down from the mountainous north and into warmer locations. Here the snows had long since melted, and his wintry white coat was like a beacon against the summer heated backdrop. His brilliant yellow eyes stared mostly down at his own feet as he walked and only occasionally glancing upward toward his path, his thoughts more or less directed inward. Yep, this was certainly a bright idea, leaving the comfort of home to look for company in strangers. If he could not speak to his pack mates, how was he to strike up conversations with strangers? As usual, his thoughts were dismal and discouraging, setting his expression into something solemn and glum. Maybe he ought to turn back before he got too far. He was sure he could still find his way back if he turned back now.

The boy would venture a bit from Imperium and from his beloved sister, not that they spent every second together. They both knew how to be alone and as his long legs carried him over the boundaries he didn't feel any distraught pulls from his heart that compelled him to stay. He'd be off in search of some herbs probably, at least that was what he'd tell himself he just wanted to get out for the day really. He enjoyed Imperium for the most part though he was primarily there to be with Mercy. His world really did revolve around his litter mate. Even more so now. He'd smile softly as he thought about her and continued his walk. The lands were quiet and his thoughts would easily pass through his mind as he felt himself relax. He'd hold himself proudly, he might have been reclusive but he was hardly timid. His tail would sweep behind him slowly as his confident walk carried him over this new place. Debris littered the ground, but what really interested him was the other boy that strode across the plain. Curiosity would draw him a bit closer, though he'd try and come up behind the other boy as he didn't really wish to be seen. Though as he drew more near the uncanny resemblance between him and the boy could not be denied. However his face reminded him sharply of Atka and their ages seemed similar.. Revenge would come up at the boy's side, his head tilted curiously as he looked the other over speculatively. "Hey, um.. who are you?" He'd ask, had he looked different Revenge probably wouldn't have said anything, but his appearance was so similar.. could this be another of Scorpion's kids? "Speech"

Walk | Talk | Think The young wolf was thoughtful as he moved, still considering tucking tail and turning back toward the direction he had come from. There was nothing for him here, not in these strange lands with only unfamiliar faces. He could only feel awkward and inadequate for socializing and return home embarrassed and humiliated. No, he really did need to go back, before he made a fool of himself and possibly offended someone who lived around this area. He had just about made up his mind when he realized someone approached him. Immediately his yellow eyes lifted from the earth to stare at the other wolf as he padded closer to him, and the longer Miksa stared the more his eyes seemed to grow bigger. Was it just the angle from which he was looking at him, or did this wolf seem to have a strikingly similar appearance to his own? A white pelt, almost entirely unadorned save for the markings that encircled his eyes. Eyes that were practically the same brilliant yellow that stared back from his reflection. A little tongue tied, Miksa did not know how to answer at first when the wolf spoke to him, though his steps did fumble and then stop entirely, bringing him to a stop. He knew staring was rude, but it was so hard not to look at this stranger and feel some odd sense of familiarity with him, though likely it was just because it felt like the stranger was wearing his face. Who was he? Oh wait, the stranger had asked that first. "Miksa," he stated, forgetting even to be intimidated by this unknown individual. But really, who was he?

The other wolf would notice just as easily as Revenge did the incredible similarities between one another. The other white boy's eyes opened wider at Revenge's approach, but he was obviously as curious as Revenge himself. The Destruction was not usually one to confront other wolves, especially complete strangers. However he had to make an exception for this one, the two were almost twins. When confronted Revenge wouldn't get much out of the other boy, only a name. It was odd too because Miksa sounded kind of like Atka. Revenge would narrow his bright yellow stare, taking in a whiff of him as the other boy gave up his name. He did smell strikingly familiar to his half sister as well. "My name is Revenge. It's weird, you look a lot like me." He had no doubt that this could be a long lost brother, he had no doubt that there might be more of them somewhere out in the world too. His father had never been a reserved kind of guy. Who knows how many litters he sired. He was not a wolf of many words for the most part, and as he got to the point he wasn't sure what else to say. "Speech"

Walk | Talk | Think As Revenge narrowed his eyes, Miksa felt his tan ears begin to fold, not at all sure how to take the look. Was he just trying to puzzle out why they looked so familiar? Or had Miksa accidentally done something to offend him like he was afraid he would? The timid boy tried not to fidget as his unknown twin continued to try making sense of him, though earning is name in return was a welcome relief. Revenge. Well if that did not sound intimidating, nothing did. Did this wolf live up to that name? Should Miksa have been more nervous than he already was? He hated to think that he might need to be. With names and those formalities out of the way, they seemed to lapse into silence, and Miksa finally did fidget as his brilliant yellow eyes glanced quickly at Revenge and then away, as if checking to make sure his exits were still in place. Was that it? Was their meeting over, just like that? "You look more like me than my brother does," Miksa added at last, trying for something to carry a bit of the conversation though he hardly knew if it was enough or what more he might be able to offer him.

This boy seemed kind of timid, the one factor that would make Revenge doubt the thoughts that had so easily come to mind. He looked so similar to himself as well as Mercy. Obviously though, the two could be brothers by appearance alone. While he studied the other wolf silence would fall between them. Another similarity, Revenge wasn't one for talking most of the time. Though with one more statement he would be thrown back into the conversation. "You look more like me than either of my sisters. Do you know who your father is?" He had doubts that he could have shared mothers, he looked to be about the same age as Atka and his mother hadn't been pregnant since himself and Mercy. However his father could have who knows how many other litters out there in the world. "Speech"

Walk | Talk | Think So this wolf had siblings too, sisters in fact. Miksa wondered how different they were than brothers. Were they quieter? Sweeter? More fragile? His own brother had been such a flighty, adventurous thing that getting to spend time with him had been something of a chore. Shtiya had always wanted to go and do things, and Miksa had had trouble keeping up and wearing the same sort of enthusiasm the other boy had so naturally. Even so, not having him around made the kid feel lonely and abandoned, and it was only because of his pack that he had not floundered into any debilitating depression. The question about his father was a bit of a surprise, though now that it was mentioned he realized how little he knew of the man. Qanik had never mentioned him, not once, though Miksa knew by now that he must have had one. "I don't," he answered with a little pinch of his brow, "my mom never really mentioned him." And being a quiet boy who simply did as he was told, it had never really came upon him to ask.