The northern winter wasn’t something he had ever experienced for- at least, not like this. The snowfall came in heaps, and even within the shelter of the caves, the wind was unforgiving. He had no control over the tremors that rattled his weakened frame. His head throbbed, his throat raw and inflamed. Each cough that ravaged his lungs caused bursts of pain in his chest and neck. Fight wounds he could understand … but this? It was possibly the most emasculating he’d been subjected to- being brought to his knees by a little chill. He didn’t regret his actions at Dreamer’s Col. However, he could have done without the souvenir.

As he lay propped up against the cavern wall, Aresenn watched the winter storm rage through narrowed eyes. Close enough to the entrance to see out, but tucked far enough in to try and beat as much of the wind chill as possible. Drifting in and out of fever dreams left him more exhausted than actual sleep. So the ideal unconsciousness was given up on long ago, as he lay contemplating the actions that got him to this point. Maybe leaving the Raiders had been a poor decision on his part. At least the beach had been warm.

"Aresenn Praetor"
208 / 1500 words

The day started out typical for the Saxe boy. He woke up at midmorning, when the sun was high enough to emit some warmth and the bite of the winter chill wasn’t as intense. He quenched his thirst at a nearby stream, caught a fish to fill his belly, and headed out in search of supplies to get him through the winter.

What he hadn’t expected to happen, was the sudden change in weather. Dark, rumbling clouds rolled in on top of him, intercepting all sunlight and casting the territory into an abyss of whirling snow. The wind picked up at an alarming rate, whipping against his pelt with enough force to burry down to his flesh. Each time a gust picked up, it felt like his skin was being torn by the wind. His paws felt frozen, and his usually amethyst coat was cloaked in a layer of powdered snow. He could hardly see in front of him, the visibility only expanding several feet in each direction before dissipating into a white veil.

With a mouth full of herbs, Sephiran walked through the raging winter storm, trying to find shelter anywhere he could. And, after what felt like an eternity of stumbling through the raging storm, he found the haven he was looking for. He slipped into the opening of the cavern with ease, snow falling from his pelt with each stride but it wasn’t enough to break the layer that enveloped him. He didn’t immediately notice the other wolf in the cavern, who happened to be one of the wolves he had been searching for all this time. With the herbs in his mouth and how frozen his face felt, he couldn’t smell Aresenn’s scent either.

After walking several feet into the cavern, Sephiran dropped the herbs onto the ground before turning to examine the area. He heard the chest-rattling cough before he saw the silhouette, which caused him to pivot on his paws to face the presumed stranger. The hair along his nape bristled, shifting some of the snow slightly. But he was still cloaked in it, and appeared to be a large, looming white figure. His eyes took several moments to adjust, and what he saw before him was a site he hadn’t expected.

It was Aresenn.

His jaw nearly dropped in disbelief, ears tipping forward as he stared at the crimson boy, who was lying on the ground with his side against the cavern wall. All he could do was stare at this moment, as he was truly at a loss for words- not that he talked much to begin with.  

644 / 1500 words

"Sephiran Saxe"

As much as he fought sleep, there was no denying that his eyelids were getting awfully heavy. In the passing moments he’d allow them to rest, it was easy to lose track before that sensation of falling jolted him awake. Simply put, Aresenn hadn’t noticed the silhouette out in the distance- there was nothing to be heard over the airy roar of the winter storm. In fact, he only began to stir at the sound of nails scraping stone. It didn’t immediately strike him as something out of the ordinary until he remembered he was supposed to be alone.

Amber eyes flashed open, immediately settling on the frame of a familiar stranger. After blinking in rapid procession, only then did he entertain the idea that maybe he wasn’t dreaming after all. Aresenn quietly observed as Sephiran Saxe released his grasp on a bundle of herbs before offering a panning glance around the cavern they had miraculously both found independently. There was no help to be had for the cough that ripped through his chest and throat. He clenched his eyes shut at the stabbing sensation in his head. However, when he opened them once again, he was met with that dual-colored gaze filled with disbelief. Offering an attempt to clear his throat as lightly as possible, he spoke out- voice hoarse with sickness. “Seems that you’ve caught me at a disadvantage.” He said slyly. He always aired on the side of dry humor, but his cracking vocal cords brought a whole new meaning to the idea.

Shifting his attention to the herbs that Sephiran had left on the ground, he made a shallow gesture with his chin. “Happen to have anything in there to finish the job?” Once again, only partly joking. But even in humor, he thought better of it. “What am I saying. Poisoning isn’t really your style.” He mumbled to himself through a winced grin. At least he was entertaining himself in his fevered stupor.

"Aresenn Praetor"
972 / 1500 words

While the winter storm raged on at the mouth of the cavern, two male wolves stared at one another in disbelief, having found sanctuary in the same place at the same time. Aresenn was just as bewildered by his sudden appearance, as the two locked eyes to exchange their usual greeting before it was interrupted by a burst of coughing. Sephiran took that moment to shake his pelt, sending a spray of snow in each direction before it settled onto the ground and started to melt. Removing the snow brought a little warmth back into his body, but it wasn’t enough to stop the chill completely.

At Aresenn’s statement, his head slightly cocked to the right, lips twitching into a faint sneer. The former pirate looked worse for wear, but not in the way Sephiran was used to. He didn’t have any obvious injuries, and there wasn’t the pungent, metallic scent of blood lingering in the air. This was a different kind of ailment, one his mother had taught him about and he had seen in elder members of his pack. It was an internalized thing that had many causes and was sometimes contagious.

Caught him at a disadvantage… The words repeated inside of his head, and Sephiran couldn’t help but wonder how he would have reacted in this moment if the wolf before him hadn’t been Aresenn. It was an opportunity he wouldn’t have been able to pass up, but he considered Aresenn to be a worthy accomplice. So, he did the opposite of what he usually would have done, and decided to assist him.

As Aresenn asked about the question, Sephiran turned away from him to walk over to the pile of herbs. And, at the mention of poisoning not being his thing, he couldn’t help but be amused. “It’s not?” He retorted, picking up the bundle of elderberries, chamomile, and yarrow. The herbs didn’t look the best, given he had found them buried beneath several inches of snow. In fact, they were merely remnants of what grew in the fall, but they would have to do for now.

Sitting before Aresenn, he dropped the pile at his paws and scooted them towards him. “Eat those.” A simple demand, which he figured Aresenn would oblige. “I didn’t think winter had such an effect on you.” He remarked, trying to open up a discussion of what may have caused this.

1373/1500

"Sephiran Saxe"

As Sephiran turned to the herbs that he had set down, he offered a coy response to Aresenn’s own observation of the toxic herbs he likely didn’t have with him. A half-sided grin tugged the edge of his lip when confronted with the satire of the situation. “If you’re implying that your preferred method of murder is poisoning, I’ve been given the wrong impression.” Aresenn rebutted in amusement. It seemed like he had heard something about laughter being akin to medicine. Well, he wasn’t laughing. But he was certainly healthy enough to banter back and forth. When he was given the instruction to take some of the stock Sephiran had been carrying around, he wasn’t about to argue. But before carrying out the treatment, he would answer the invitation for insight as to how he got into his current condition. “Well. Winter on its own isn’t so bad. The near drowning didn’t do me any favors, though.” Aresenn mused, before chewing up the remedies given to him. Nothing about what he was prescribed to ingest was pleasant. Though, had they been flavorful he would have been more concerned. Of course, he was already riddled with boredom and frustration from his current state. He considered asking for a time frame of improvement … but eventually decided against it. “Thanks.” The Praetor boy muttered lowly, offering a stiff nod in something that resembled appreciation.

After spending some time alone to figure things out, he was glad to have run into the other individual he had been passively seeking out. The time for reflection was coming to an end. Now, he felt they were approaching a high cause to attend to. “What are you doing up here?” Aresenn asked casually, doing his best to suppress a cough. What’s the plan?

"Aresenn Praetor"
1670 / 1500 words

Even with the sickness lingering in his chest, Aresenn was as coy as ever. He retorted with another sly comment, flashing Sephiran a half-sided grin before following his instruction to eat the herbs. “Not preferred, but it’s useful.” He said in response, thinking back to his recent experiences with poisons. Over the last season, he had been sharpening his skills, both physical and medicinal. Having experimented on playthings he caught in the wild, or slaughtering whatever poor mama crossed his path, Sephiran had become more proficient in his means of murder.

At the mention of a near drowning, Sephiran’s ears twitched upon his skull before turning forward to show interest in the statement. “I thought you could swim.” It wasn’t necessarily an insult, just him musing aloud in response. Intaking water into your lungs created a cocktail of trouble, given it created the perfect environment for infection to grow in.

Sephiran didn’t respond to Aresenn’s thanks. He just huffed before plopping into the ground in front of him, before he went to work on licking his paws to warm them up a bit. “There is someone here I want.” He replied in a matter-of-fact manner, not caring to beat around the bush. Aurelia was a prize he would relentlessly pursue until he was successful in obtaining her. And he would do whatever it took to ensure he was successful in his pursuit. “What’s happened in the last season? You’ve been gone.” If anything eventful had happened, Sephiran wanted to know. And, after they caught up a bit, Sephiran would tell Aresenn of his plan… and the former pirate would have the choice to decide if he wanted to join Sephiran on his path of destruction, or go their separate ways for good.

-end w/ them catching up-

"Sephiran Saxe"