Tenebrous shapes danced a around him. Their courage to be so near applaudable and yet deplorable. Had he fallen so? That the creatures of the night did not look on him and beg for the sunlight? Or that they did not so warmly flock to him. Were the warning signs gone? They were and he knew it was he that was left to blame. Syrinx had abandoned his position and his appointment to rise through the world and chase some other form f mediocrity. Why? When here he had been a practical god. His actions were unforgivable. Especially or him--absolution would evade him as it always had, and he would no longer question her cruelty. ? Had he gotten so old? That the chill of alacritis's fall was felt through his fur and that the air was unwelcoming to him. It were as though he was facing a rebirth of sorts. Entering a new world by any means. Born again? Yes. This was his second chance to face them all and show them his heart. To bare it before them in the equivalent grotesqueness of pulling his chest apart so that all could see. His intentions had always been masqueraded in wrongness and in the loving embrace of chaos. But it was his family--it was Valhalla and the Adravendi-- that he had always sought to protect. He was a better man than they would ever know, for infamy outweighed beauty every time. Besides, his beauty had been stolen from him in his youth. And in some metaphorical (and very literal) way so had his youth. ? ?The frenzied rush of air that straddled his body and rushed through the tendrils of fur was welcomed and hated all in the same moment. His feelings were mixed about this place. Did they hate him? His family...Valhalla could not have withstood the wars without someone willing to call the dangerous shots. Already the air in the world was different; And no longer was he speaking about the climate. Many changes had risen in the world he claimed to love, and with a tremendous howl he bought his pardon back to it. He was back in Alacritis and this time it was to enact his will on them all. This time it was to change the face of the world they knew--for the world he wanted had been far too far out of his reach.? ?? Table by Lu

There was an odd stillness to the wind of the night that warned of unrest. Scents could not carry on a dead wind and he felt blind and senseless to the world around him without its aid. His steps would not falter but they would land more silently, more cautious as he took in the dancing shadows of the night. He would still his steps as the wind would come alive again around him, he could feel it?s cool touch against his coat like icy hands that stroked along the length of his being. More than the relief he felt to its revival he found also the scent of the other that mingled with its essence. He knew immediately that it was not someone eh had ever crossed paths with before, and there was something in the scent that stood out as a warning. For the barest moment the brute stood at a crossroads, he could take the warning and turn, walk away from this place without ever knowing why or what had stirred the unrest inside him. The moment was gone as he moved again, urging himself closer to the being that emitted the scent. Foolhardy and curiosity where only part of his makeup that brought that need to go forward. He would move until he was there, before the brute and bring his existence known to this strange, exotic creature that had stood there. He took in the titan, this beast who raged at lengths taller than his own, who stood in washes of deep russet like one tainted with the touch of blood. He took in that red that adorned him and a sly smile would change the folds of Crucifix?s face as his thoughts would take him to another red wolf. He seated himself in the presence of this monster of bold shades and titan build, and found himself without words to compete with these sights that met his own. "My sounds""My Soul"

Why would he pray to be alone? It would be effort wasted for he knew that alacritis was the very place one should avoid if they wished to remain In their solitary. Alacritis had a talent for throwing everyone into situations they had no desire to take part in, and yet that was the excitement of it. This corrupt world was positively drowning in bliss and it was because of those that had congregated here. Holy and non, respectful and terrific, and bold without resolve. He admired it. Still, as the crack and pop of the underbrush was noticed, and as he momentarily thought of the sounds of wildly spreading fire, he was Able to distinguish it by the block of canine that appeared before him. ?

?A smirk was worn by this lord and syrinx could feel his lips peel back over exposed bone, and he could feel his ears rock back against his massive skull. A challenger? Was he seeking an audience? Issuing a challenge? Months...a year...from the public and social eye tended to leave one confused as to what there was waiting. Friend? For? What was this man...syrinx was displeased. A familiar odor bridled his body, but Syrinx could not put names together. He could not seem to associate anything and in that very moment everything that he knew became an odd haze complete of confusion. He didn't enjoy it. ??

? So what was he supposed to do? The residual sound that arose from his diaphragm was something akin to a hiss, violent, and entirely feline like he spoke in demands; wanting answers, "Who are you that you have the knowledge to seek me out?" the rest of his thoughts went unspoken--in his head ideas of how he could snap the boys neck with his bare teeth, or how he could gouge his eyes out and leave him to the scavengers. There were a thousand ways the boy could die tonight, and at least syrinx could promise that, at his hand, his death would be remarkable and beautiful and certainly memorable. Though, to kill without reason was a waste of life--yet, if the boy could not defend himself adequately his life wasn't exactly worth living. He had to think and he had to be certain of what path his future wanted to take.

Coding by Lu

Crucifix was caught with the inability to speak, and the need to utter words through his vocals. This brute, this beast was something he had not seen before and he was uncertain how one should approach, what words would please such a being. The eyes that fell upon him where cold with menace and that tinge of something akin to hatred that burned against those orbs. A hiss would follow, slipping past fangs in a cold flood of noise, it brought to mind the sound of blood dripping against stone in a hiss of warmth to cold. Crucifix would shiver at all he heard within those tones, the underlining warning and threat and spoke of ripped out throats, of gorged out eyes. ?I did not? He voice was soft but for the mescaline tone, his eyes still upon this great boy before him. ?I am Crucifix, and I did not seek you, nor no who you are.? he admitted softly. He could feel his own body coiling, weary of what might be to come. He did not want to fight this titan, this beast held the taint of blood and death, he stood in his path with the force of fire and Cru knew that despite his own strengths, he did not hold a candle to this beast. He could be tread beneath this boys paws, crushed against that power just as easily as the other might blink. He was no coward, nor pleased with the thoughts of running from battle, in fact, the mere idea burned fire in his own veins. No, he did not want to fight this beast, and yet, could not see himself fleeing from that power. He sigh, a soft hiss between his fangs at this interweb of inability. ?Who are you?? He would ask now, ignore it, ignoring it all, these worries that plagued him. "My sounds""My Soul"

She never thought that she would hear that howl again. The woman's ears would perk, and she would instantly move toward the lupine that had issued the call. Without a word, a pardon, a rhyme or reason she would push forward - because this wasn't just the call of some wolf. This brute was important - family, her brother, where on earth had he gone?! The woman would expect for his daughters to find him as well, and although they might try to chew him to pieces they surely, somewhere deep down, had missed him. It would take a while to reach him - but the journey was made in long strides beneath the moonlight, steps that should have been more careful with her half sight were reckless, caution thrown to the wind.


Chrysanthe would be out of breath by the time she reached him, chest heaving and muscles tired from the sudden run - but she had made it - and that was all that mattered. She had made it and he was there. For a moment she would pause, forcing her breaths to be even enough to properly speak. Her lips would quiver, her eyes wide at the sight of the brute because it had been an entire year since she had last seen him if not more. Yet her visage would smooth as she examined the once bone king, letting it sink in that he had not run off and gotten himself killed... from the sound of his voice, he might have run off and started doing the killing. There was something about it that to most - would strike them as unnerving, but Chrysanthe couldn't help but mix that with worry. What had happened to him while he was away? Why had he gone at all?


"Syrinx, you're alive." She would say finally, inadvertently answering the young boy's (who she could instantly assume was a member of Twig and Jinxx's family considering the cross on his left) question as to who the male was. "Where did you go this time?" She would question, no bark to her tone even though she was pissed that he had left his family behind when those girls had needed him more than anyone else. Now they didn't seem to want to accept anyone - not even each other.


"Crucifix, getting into trouble so late at night?" Poor kid was probably just curious - his soft vocals made her feel sorry for him - surely her older brother wasn't what he was expecting when he searched for someone that had howled in the middle of the night. "His family's in Valhalla, he probably wanted to make sure you were alright." Valhalla tended to be too nice for it's own good... herself included at times. But that also meant he was off limits to her russet kin's abuse, Valhalla was still important to Syr, wasn't it?

Her day had consisted in patrolling and wandering around. She had to admit, she didnt expect her life to turn out like that. Though, Meinx wouldnt exactly complain seeing as she had already proven successful with her queen and climbed the ladder to teir 2. A call would pierce her ears, its abscence something she had grown used to, but hearing it again the dark girl knew she couldnt ignore it. Syrinx had decided to be far away from where she was residing, and with a huff Meinx would run, eager to see if it was really true, was he back? It took her far to long to arrive, but she had finally made it. Her legs would grow tired, and with it her breaths would become heavier. She first saw Chrysanthe, who she last saw at the Adravendi meeting.

But then her gaze would focus upon her Father. The one who thought it was acceptable to leave withought a single goodbye. What was so important? Meinx felt a slight relief that he was still alive, but another part of her wanted to be angry, and she wanted to hate him. " Oh, so you finally think your pretty enough to be seen in public again?" Her sarcastic, bluntness in her tone had still not faded away, and she doubted it ever would. She had grown double her size since he had left, and right now Meinx looked like a mess. Her scruff was almost torn completely in two, and she still had cuts and bites all around her body that was still healing. But, she did win her very first spar. And even though she had lost another, She had proven that she was skilled enough and rewarded greatly. But, even though she looked a state Syrinx wasnt exactly scar clear either. " What happened to you anyway?" Meinx had grown used to showing no affection, her mother wasnt exactly around either, so she half expected Syrinx to grow bored and do the same as she. The girl would move herself close to Chrysanthe, Matching her height of 36" but she still needed to widen out.

Most of her sisters went Scarce to, Vyvienne, cynder and Syren leaving to do their own thing. Who knows, they could be dead for all she knew. Though, they could very well still be in Alactria and decided to spend their days alone like Meinx had done for the first month or two. She had seen Sevan, though it would seem she had become more hostile then anything. Having some phase of hating everyone. [though who could blame her, Meinx isnt perfect either.] The dark girl would stand their, waiting for answers. Her gaze would flick over towards the other man she did not know, but her main focus was to find out everything.

OOC: [ ]



He should have known by now that to expect isolation was foolish and eventually the crowd would begin to develop around him. He paid attention to them each individually as was custom, but he couldn't help but tear each scenario of speech apart in his head. This crucifix fellow deserved a little a little bit of a lesson and Syrinx could feel the urge to show him hat happened whenever you invaded that of which was unknown. Syrinx had intimidation on his side. He was ugly, and in his scarred face and lacerated body he knew that he had the upper hand. This was solely because he looked like he had truly walked through hell, and those Thy had that appearance had more effect. Though, crucifix would have his boldness awarded, Syrinx was unsure what with and, truthfully, if he would be the one doling out the award. And just as he would prepare to answer the question that was thrown on the line his darling sister would appear and syrinx would dare to step near her. Boundaries did bot exist. He forgot that one of her eyes had been rendered useless and a scowl immediately usurped his features. Isardis had done that. Syrinx still wondered why Chrydanthe had allowed him to best her. ?

? "I do not die. It's something I decided to just not do," it was said as though there were truly a choice in the matter. Though, in his mind there was a choice, naturally, however, syrinx had to remember he had come close, "your husband or what har you is partially responsible for my life," though, syrinx threw extreme indifference to the statement. He didn't know where Gideon had gone after the incident. Truthfully, he wasn't sure he ever walked out. That wasn't his problem though and he was not discussing it with chrysanthe. Chrysanthe tried to explain crucifix's being out and about and being so bold. He shrugged his shoulders and a low growl resonated in his throat, "glad Valhalla is well. Though, it won't be if you don't teach them to stay away from things that go bump in the night. I could have killed him if I wanted to," the statement was not spoken matter-of-factly. Syrinx was aware that his sister understood his capabilities. Eyes were trained in crucifix, but only because syrinx hungered for the look that would spread across his face. He hoped desperately to see a glimmer of fear. He needed to be feared, "I won't leave again. The world is boring," syrinx was particularly off, but speakin to chrysanthe was more normal. At least he could understand her brother and accept of him what words came from his mouth and what actions took place by his will.


?Least of what he expected was for a daughter of his to actually show her face. Though, one did and syrinx would look past Epipron. Despite his cold exterior--God, he loved those children. Their coldness was a reflection of their love, and for an immediate moment he wondered how truly angry she was with him. The Titan pressed forward, moving past Chrysanthe (but pushing his head against her shoulder and hip as he passed) he stared in Meinx and a wicked grin overtook his lips, "I've never thought myself to be pretty, love," he continued towards her, aiming to press his nose against her nape and inhale. Already, however, he knew--"and you have yet to take your own kingdom. We're both failures, mi Amor," there was a resonating air of challenge about his words. He would have her forgiveness then or she would push on trying to prove points to which he would find equal fault with her. He was a proverbial god and even in his wrongness refused questioning, "I had things to figure out. This place was not ready for what I had to offer. I needed to stand in my own legs an you and your sisters needed better training. Tell me--did you band together or did you fall to pieces? If you couldn't stand against the world together in my absence then you've all failed and missed something essential," syrinx had to wonder (if they had fallen apart) how? Vyvienne had a tendency to keep tabs on what was hers.?
"Speech!".

The bloody brute before him would not be the one the find the answers to the questions he put out there, tearing into place beside them would be another creature, one with the scent of Valhalla about her even if he did not fully recognise her. He would offer her a grin as she spoke of trouble, and put him forth as a friend of Valhalla, with family in their borders. He didn't have a chance to speak, his tail would flick I warning as yet another creature would appear before them, materialising as a wolf, but this one he did not recognise at all. Clearly, as the Valhalla wolf had, this wolf knew the beast before them ? Synrix he had been called. Cru, feeling like he was intruding on a strange reunion of sorts, would find himself stepping back, giving space to this... daughter? Of the titan they all faced. The words would return to Crucifix himself, and he would bite back the growl that would grow in his throat, he knew this beast before him was larger, he could see the power in his muscles, and he was older, well Cru acted and felt far beyond his years he did not have all the experience that seemed to build within this brutes being, and yet.. he would not completely have been beyond rising to the occasion had a fight been inevitable. He was perhaps, foolish enough in this aspect, and their was no fear in his eyes only a cool appraisal in his unwavering hold his eyes held for the titan, and throughout all the exchanges, he did not speak again. "My sounds""My Soul"