Hallowed are the Ori

Apollo wasn't particularly given to wandering. His purpose in life was to be a soldier, the safeguard for his family, and he couldn't very well do that if he weren't there. When he left the pack borders it was usually to accompany an important Abraxas mission, or to act as a discrete bodyguard for a family member, or to extend his patrols to the lands immediately surrounding the pack. He couldn't recall a time in his life where he'd simply... wandered, for the sake of wandering. It was a bit of a puzzle to him, but he'd woken in the night from a strange dream he could even then only vaguely remember, and had felt the near-overwhelming urge to set his paws upon the path from the pack, and simply walk.It wasn't wanderlust or restlessness so much as the vaguely unsettling feeling that he was supposed to be somewhere, doing something, and that he couldn't remember what it is he was meant to do. He'd forgotten.

It was a disturbing feeling, and for a while he'd resisted it, but when he couldn't fall back asleep the entire night anyway, when dawn was barely touching the horizon he finally gave in and rose from his fur-lined cubby to set out on a journey with no discernible purpose.

When he found himself at the mouth of a cave, there was no blaze of trumpets, no fanfare, no fireworks. No wonder and awe. Caves had no particular draw for him on a personal or religious level - there was no hidden omen in finding a cave. But there was a small spark of curiosity, and that still-nagging feeling of forgetting something he was to have done.

He descended into the cave.

He was no fool. He kept his shoulder against one wall, stopping to scent-mark at each branching of the cave so he would always know where he had come from even if his trail were somehow disrupted. But despite all his caution, all his self-discipline, the militant male didn't even notice the changes tha were coming over his body and mind, so slowly did they occur as he breathed the poisoned air.He began seeing small movements out of the corners of his eyes, and soon his head was jerking one way or another every few moments as he attempted to chase down that peripheral movement with his vision. His hackles were raising in an instinctive horror of this unknown, for all that the male was a practical sort and, when he was in his right mind, calm.

When he nearly ran into the other wolf, Apollo jerked to a stop a few inches short of the great furry chest and backpedaled a few steps to stare up at the black visage. And up, and up - this wolf was far larger than any Apollo had met, even his brother Amon. Massive, with scars marring the black pelt that covered rippling muscle. And black, black eyes, eyes deep as a field of stars with flickering fire-lights at their cores.

Apollo froze, his mind racing now. Could this possibly... could it be...? He, who bowed to no wolf, bowed his head deeply now. "Lord," he rumbled. "Fallen One, I give you greetings."

The wolf surveyed him with a cool sort of distance. "My son," the wolf finally rumbled, in a voice far deeper even than Apollo's own deep bass rumble. It seemed to shake the walls and rattle the very pebbles on the cave floor. "Do you still serve me, my son?"

Apollo's head flew up, golden eyes focusing on the huge wolf with faintly indignant disbelief. "Yes, Lord, always I serve You, and hold to the mission You long ago gave to my family." He bowed his head again. "I serve your will, Fallen One."

The wolf was silent, and Apollo cautiously lifted his head to see the wolf watching him skeptically. "Words," the wolf said, when their eyes met. "Words are meaningless. It is sacrifice that shows you honor Me. Tell me, My son, do you honor Me?Though you grow old, and your teeth yellow and dull, do you serve Me?"

Apollo straightened, back going ramrod straight was his military bearing became more pronounced. One paw, with great deliberateness, came down heavily upon a sharp stone, the thin edge parting the leathery skin of the large pad jaggedly. "My Lord," Apollo said again, lifting his paws pressed together in supplication. "Accept my blood as a token, a symbol of the sacrifice of my body and my life in your service. I dedicate myself to you, Fallen One. Everything I am and was and will be, lies within your jaws to do with as you will. Though You test my body and my mind, though time steals my strength, my will shall not falter. I will past thy wisdom and thy charge to the generations to follow, that the Abraxas may one day rise to stand by your side in battle to conquer the heavens and bring them under your rule." Blood dripped from his paw to soak the floor beneath him in a thick, oozing puddle as he swore an oath to the apparition. He bowed his head, the scent of blood thick enough in the poisoned air to make him dizzy. "So I do swear."

When he looked up once more, the massive wolf was gone. After a moment, he turned and made his way back to the entrance of the cave, following his markers. He was and never had been a particularly superstitious wolf, but as he emerged from the cave he felt refreshed by much more than simply the clear, cold air, though that also made him shiver once beneath his coat. He felt his purpose was renewed by the dedication to his Fallen God, though the method of the act was rather... unorthodox. He could feel the cut on his pawpad with every step, to remind him of the sacrifice the Fallen God required of his Abraxas children. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, meditating on that thought for a moment before opening them once again to make the journey back home, this time thoughtfully rather than restlessly. He did not have much time left on this Earth, he knew, but though he would die he would do so knowing that the Fallen God had not forgotten Apollo's family, nor abandoned them despite the weaknesses and failures of some of His children. If Apollo took great care in helping nurture this next generation, he could die knowing he had fulfilled his oath.