Kismet was wary leaving his family in Tortuga, a part of him had been tempted to stay and ensure they were safe he hadn't been able to stay put though, the world calling in once more as he set off to find Warja. He had to know where his friend had gone and make sure she was ok. His family could settle into their new home in the meantime and he would check up on them again later. He was certainly loyal to them, he hoped they still realised that though he held a loyalty to Warja as well, his oldest and best friend, if he had to spend his life running back and forth between the most important people to him then he didn't care, he would do it and it was certainly his plan for now. The south beckoned him onwards, his original plan was to try head to Mount Volkan and try see if they had returned or if any signs at all were there for him but at the last minute the boy had found himself heading towards Valhalla. He hadn't ventured too close to his former home, lingered around the edges looking for a sign of Sarak in case his father had suddenly reappeared, attempted to return home to find his family had left. He would be left disappointed however and whilst that worry would return once more for his family, the boy would continue onwards to try find Warja. It was as he neared Covari borders that her scent would reach him and something else familiar. Kismet would wonder over it for a moment before he realised what it was, the scent of the new Valhalla, it was trailed over the lands between the two packs, mingled together and he recoiled tracking the scents to double check, moving away from either pack and eventually stopping as he hit the coast. What did this mean? Had Warja been taken prisoner, her entire family as well or had they willingly joined this pack? He honestly wasn't sure which answer he dreaded the most but there was only one way to get those answers however and as the light began fade from the sky he found himself lifting his head and beckoning Warja to join him, hoping that she was close enough to hear his howl, close enough that she would be here soon. He longed to see her, see that she was ok and prayed he wouldn't have to make the same promise he'd once asked of her.

She flew over the terra at an all out run. Somewhere out there was Kismet. His distant voice had reached her all the way over in the range where she'd made her den. It wasn't quite a home, but the space she'd chosen was entirely of her own making. Having found the rusty pieces of machinery fascinating, Warja decided that the one that she'd pulled The Shiny off of was perfect for a living space. The contraption, thanks to age and decay, was low to the ground. All she had to do was dig under it and push all the loose dirt to the sides and tada! instant living space. To complete her abode, the yearling had scattered the seeds of several of her favorite plants atop the displaced dirt. She was hoping that with time they'd grow up and pack the soil in, further solidifying the walls she'd made. The final touch that had christened Casa Warja was when she'd crawled inside and tucked an old ragged feather into the machine's twisty belly. She ran through the swamp, dancing around questionable ripples and slithering over roots and then hit the caves. If it weren't Kismet who was waiting she'd have hunted around the caves for a bit, but because it was him she didn't linger. Some day she'd come back and investigate, but not today. Unless, of course, her friend was up for an adventure. Finally she hit the beach. Here the yearling paused to sniff around. This was where Kismet was calling from, wasn't it? Warja followed her nose around for a bit. When at last she found his scent, the fae was off again, rocketing down the beach. Her gaze roved over the terra, hungrily taking in everything in the hopes that her eyes would land on his form. When they found his pawprints they tracked them until they were out of sight and when at last the distant outline of her best friend came into view, her eyes stayed fixed on him. Finally she stood before him. Mock serious, she said accusingly, "Well, you took your sweet time." The serious act didn't last long. In seconds the corners of her mouth twisted up in a small smile. When she spoke next Warja's voice was soft. "I missed you." Speaking - -Thinking

It was taking a while, he stood still in silence, mismatched gaze staring off into the direction of Covari hoping each and every movement he saw in the distance would possibly be Warja coming towards him. Right now, though it was logical to assume he might not have even heard her, there was a part of him that felt if she didn't arrive it was logical to assume that she was a prisoner and that was certainly a possibility he was still fearing after his own experiences. At last though he would catch sight of a figure running along the beach and as he watched he knew it was his friend. Although his mind wouldn't quite settle just yet he would breathe a sigh of relief able to see that she was alive, well and here now. He would move to help close the distance and at last the pair were together once more. It had been about a season since they'd last seen each other, and it certainly seemed too long in his opinion and he was glad to see her now. He couldn't help but smile at her comment, a small chuckle sounding from him. "I could say the same for you! You moved and now you've left me waiting on this beach for you to finally show up." His own words too were hardly serious though he would have been lying if he denied that her move had bugged him for a while now, eager to know where she was and if she was ok. "I've missed you to." Softer voice once more now and he stepped forwards to nuzzle her in greeting, he hated parting from her, it was always his own fault though really.

A L A M E A

It had not been too uncommon to have Warja return to the den smelling of a male Alamea did not recognized, when they had lived at the volcano. In truth it had happened only once or twice but the white woman?s curiosity had always piqued when her daughter had returned in such a state. Though she had not questioned the girl, her daughter had her reasons no doubt for not telling. Though of course Warja?s silence had not done much to settle any worries.
It was only natural then, that as a faint call for her daughter went up, echoing just audibly over the pack lands, Alamea was curious, and this time the curiosity would get the better of her. Slender legs carried her out of the pack lands and in the approximate direction of the call. The small woman wasn?t quite sure she was going the right way till she heard a familiar voice. Gently the woman approached the pair, resting her gaze upon her daughter as she moved in, noticing the rather friendly greeting the male was giving her daughter.
The small woman brushed up against the child, already finding herself shorter than her daughter. The girl might be the smallest of her three children but even Warja was taller than Alamea. Then rose orbs roved over the male, a wary smile gracing delicate features. ?Who is this?? It wasn?t unfriendly, though a bit cautious.

She harrumphed at him. His point was irrefutable. One day she was just going to have to go looking for him herself. Even the score a bit. Briefly the yearling thought about pointing out that once upon a time he'd told her not to come after him, but she decided against it. He probably wouldn't like that very much. Grinning up at him as he approached to greet her, Warja whole-heartedly returned to affectionate gesture. The gaps between their meeting were far too long. She wished the paths they were taking in life didn't carry them so far apart. Oh well, at least it brought them together every once in a while. Warja opened her mouth to speak when a body brushed up against her own, causing her to jump. The scent was immediately recognizable, there was no doubting who it was, but Warja turned to look anyway, not believing who it was. "Mom?" Her tone was incredulous, disbelieving, even. For a moment, Warja ignored her mother's question, fixating instead on how her mother could possibly be standing beside her. "What are you doing here?" She paused, feeling a little defensive, then asked, "You followed me?" Speaking - -Thinking

Now he was no longer a prisoner the boy certainly didn't mind if she chose to visit him once in a while, of course the problem there was that he no longer had a home of any sort. He had joined Valhalla once more out of loyalty though now completely free his only ties in life were his family and Warja. Perhaps his friend wasn't strictly a tie though Kismet certainly wasn't ready to leave her behind in anyway. If he had to spend his days travelling across either end of Alacritia to see them, make sure they were ok well then he would. It was important to him and he certainly didn't have much else to do now. Before either of them had the chance to say anything else however as suddenly they found themselves with company. Though he'd never actually met the woman before, her scent was familiar, he'd caught it upon his visit to Warja back when she and her family had lived on Mount Volkan and it certainly mingled with her daughter given the fact that the family had never had a long break apart unlike Kismet's own. Warja's initial word would confirm his suspicions that this woman was Alamea. He and Warja would separate from their innocent embrace as she questioned who he was and Warja would in turn respond with a question to her mother. The young Adravendi would remain still now, watching each of the women before him and allowing them to answer each other's questions, not entirely sure if he should actually introduce himself or leave it to Warja.

A L A M E A

Though she would not have admitted it Alamea felt some amusement at watching her daughter jump slightly. The woman smiled softly up at her daughter, there was no malice, no mischief in her expression just general curiosity and slight concern. It was a bit amusing to see her daughter struggle to comprehend what was happening, to see the gears turning in her head before a question finally popped out, quickly followed by another. Despite wanting to become defensive herself the white woman kept her expression calm, shifting her gaze briefly to the young male and offering him a brief apologetic smile; rose orbs shifting back towards the girl.
?You?ll have to forgive your mother for being curious, what with those times you returned home smelling of a stranger.? She gave Warja a wink, it did occur her that she was possibly embarrassing her daughter and while she had never wanted to be that parent her daughter had been off with a male neither she nor Rune knew and that she had never seen fit to mention him stung a bit. ?As to if you believe me that I didn?t intentionally follow you, will be up to you. I simply wanted to know it was that had been calling upon my daughter.? She faced the male again. ?Now are you going to introduce us or will we have to do that ourselves??

Walk | Talk | Think

He had yet to find his place within the pack, still standing on the sidelines as the rest of the wolves did whatever they normally did amongst each other, but at least he was making a minimal effort at keeping himself busy. The territories themselves were not all that exciting, especially since he did not possess Warja's natural knack for finding all the odd bits and pieces that made them up, but walking them was good. It got him familiar with the lands that he was supposed to be living in, and so he had taken up patrolling, walking those borders and learning where Covari stopped and the rest of the world began. Very rarely did he run across others - normally they were well inside the territory and with no interest in the tall youth - so he was typically left to himself. Just as he wanted it to be.

Eirik was patrolling now, walking the border of the pack lands and going about his business, trying to identify and differentiate between all the different scents that rested upon the border of returning pack wolves and curious rogues. He followed its path, dark paws carrying him along at an easy trot, and slowed to a sudden stop as one scent stuck out to him. His rosy pink eyes grew suddenly alert, his dark nose twitching curiously at the end of his muzzle as he lowered his head and scented the path the scent had made, leading away and out of Covari. Lifting his head, he stared off in the direction it traveled away from him, a brow quirking slightly upward. Where was his mother going? What was she up to?

Considering it was his family, and as a part of that family he had a right to be nosy about it, he glanced once inward toward the pack, ensuring that he was alone and no one else would notice, and then slipped past the border to follow the scent. It traveled south, well away from Covari lands, and the further he got the more curious and confused he became, and also more determined. He took up a swift pace, using his long strides in the hopes of catching up with his small and petite mother, and eventually he did.

He found her upon the beach, and she was surprisingly not alone. Warja stood beside her, looking unusually flustered, and another was there as well, a tall wolf with an unusual coloration. But he had neither scented his sister or this stranger along his trek. Had they been here when Alamea arrived? Eirik's brow furrowed as he came close, calling ahead with a rather concerned tone, "What's going on?" He came to stop beside both women, glancing at first toward his mother, then Warja, and finally at the male who, he was secretly glad to note, looked a bit uncertain about the whole situation. Feeling defensive about the strange male being around two of the women he cared for most in the world, Eirik eyed him distrustfully before casting his rosy pink eyes at his mother and then toward Warja. He could clearly sense something amiss by how bent out of shape his sister appeared, and raising a brow questioningly he asked, "Friend of yours?" Emphasis was placed on the title, an assumption clear within his gaze if he did not say so aloud. And he was eager for her to clarify.

Warja harrumphed but refused to say more on the matter. Her mother had followed her, she was sure of it. She wasn't sure what to think of that. If the tables were turned, the yearling would probably be guilty of doing the same, but still, it didn't sit well with her. It was a betrayal, she decided, and as that knowledge sunk in Warja's mouth filled with a bitter taste. It was a betrayal of trust. That her mother had decided to follow her spoke volumes as to what she thought of their relationship. Did she not trust her? Did she think her daughter wasn't capable of making sound decisions? To herself, Warja shook her head. "This is Kismet," she said, going with the obligatory introductions. "And this, as I'm sure you've figured out," Warja's eyes were on Kismet now, "Is my mother." Oh, good gods, now who was approaching? Warja's eyes tracked the nearing figure. All too soon it became clear. Who other than her brother was waltzing up? Where was the rest of her family? They may as well join and make a party of it. He spoke, demanding an answer in a tone that suggested he had some amount of say in the situation. Warja harrumphed at him too. "We're having a party," she said dryly, "So glad you could join us." His next words about sent Warja up the wall. If he was hoping for a reaction, Eirik would be pleased, because he got one. The yearling's ears flattened and she fixed him with a glare filled with enough venom to kill a small animal. The look was for his eyes only and the message was clear: shut up! "Yes," she said tartly, "This is Kismet. He's from old Valhalla," she explained, hoping that would sate her brother. Speaking - -Thinking

A L A M E A

Warja made a few more sounds the made it clear she was not happy with current events but finally offered the male?s name. With a smile Alamea dipped her head in his direction. Then her attention was turned to another figure, this one another of her children. Despite herself the white woman chuckled both at the expression worn upon her son?s face as well as Warja?s retort. ?No worries Eirik.? She said and placed a quick lick upon the boy?s head.
Friend of yours? Alamea kept a tight lid on her laughter this time, though another grin cracked her mask. So it seemed that she was on the same page of at least one of her children. Though as Warja explained a frown whipped the smile away and the woman turned rosy eyes once more upon Kismet. ?If you don?t mind my prying?? She began warily, glancing at Warja in warning. ?Your mother, wouldn?t happen to have been Azalea would she?? The boy certainly resembled the russet faced woman; and even though Alamea had only properly spoken to her once it was hard to miss the Adravendi woman.

Both of course knew the other had family and yet Kismet had never really met them, only knew that his mother knew of Warja's. He honestly hadn't thought about the possibility of meeting them, he wasn't opposed to the idea though he had never thought for a moment that the official introduction would have ever been as impromptu or awkward as it was quickly becoming. Matters would only be made worse by the arrival of a young male who Kismet could only assume was likely to be her brother. Warja was recovering slightly, she had at least gotten introductions and a sarcastic comment out of the way though it seemed that she was still far from the relaxed state she'd been in prior to the arrival of her mother and brother. The Adravendi boy continued to stand there silently, still unsure what to do or say really. Would they go now? It was that he disliked them, just disliked the awkward atmosphere that had arrived with them. Warja was perfectly alright anyway, there was no way he ever wanted to hurt her at all. But it seemed that there would need to be some sort of conversation first of all. Whilst his last name hadn't been given it seemed that Alamea had still managed to make the connection that he was one of Azalea's sons. "Yes, she is." He responded.