Kismet still had a lot to learn of course, though he had begun to learn to navigate around parts of the island. The water, though he knew it to be crossable given the fact that the pack had already done so before, was still an area that he hadn't yet dared to venture near thought slowly but surely he was venturing further away from the family's den in each little expedition, expanding the area he knew. One day he'd try the swim, he knew that others of the pack had done so but he certainly wasn't about to attempt it.
That was why he now stood at one of the island's edges, mismatched eyes simply gazing across the expanse of water that lay ahead. He couldn't really remember the pack's old home, he'd certainly never gotten to explore it but he had heard enough passing comments and stories to remind him that the island hadn't always been their home. Apparently nor was it their only home, something that made him all the more intrigued.
He remained frozen to the spot though, paws simply dipped in the edges of the water that splashed against the side of the island. He had no further to go, and yet he wasn't quite ready to head back to the den just yet. Instead his mind wandered a little, attempting to imagine what the land beyond the island would possibly be like.
Sarak ambled along a winding trail through the jungle. Azalea was asleep at her den. He had yet to move in, wanting to let the pups get to know him first, rather than barging into their lives. He was happy, euphoric that Azalea wanted only him, and him alone. One day, he hoped they would have children of their own together, children born of his loins and her womb united. He wouldn?t press, however. She would be the one who would steer the course of their lives together. If she wanted children with him, they would have children together. If not, he was content with raising her sons.
He wondered what his old pack would think, then snorted. They would call him weak, saying he should kill the pups of the rival, and seed Azalea with his own offspring. And then, just for kicks, kill those, too. His lip curled. How had he been born to wolves so cruel? It was hard to believe that a seed of darkness had held his heart clutched in it?s thorny vines. Erani had saved him, and Azalea had helped more than anything else. Love was the way to go, that was for sure.
A scent tickled his nose, and he stopped, looking about. He had wandered out onto the beach without realizing it. Before him stood a pup, one of Azalea?s children. He searched his mind for the name, and matched it to the description. This one was Kismet. The boy stood, paws just in the water, looking out across the sea to the mainland. Sarak stepped forward, coming to sit beside him, following his gaze to the mainland. ?It?s a long swim for small legs.? Moss green eyes dropped to study Kismet. He resembled Azalea, though lighter in color and sporting paws dipped in the same color as his head.
What would pups from himself and Azalea look like?
It was rather quiet for a while, Kismet assumed that he had managed to find a path that the pack didn't use all that often. To be honest unless they were leaving the island or waiting for someone to return he couldn't see too much use in standing at the edge of it. Even his mind began to grow bored, try as it might it couldn't really recall those glimpses he'd had of Vericona Plains to try to build any sort of image for the rest of Alacritis. He'd just have to wait and see it for himself one day.
He was about to step back from the water when he heard a voice; ?It?s a long swim for small legs.? Head turned first now, body following it as he shifted to face the wolf that had approached him and was now sitting at his side. A little older now he was paying more attention to scents beyond whether they were interesting or not, starting to get the hang of the fact that they could be useful. His scent was familiar, not simply because of the pack though because he'd smelt it upon his mother. The man in fact was also mixed with Azalea's, they had to be friends maybe even best friends. Vahva had taught him about that concept, but so young the topic of mates hadn't been discussed.
"I know." Kismet responded simply, no worry in his voice sure that this man wasn't any harm to him. Not that he had experienced any harm of course, a few things had worried the boy but the fellow wolves he'd met from his pack certainly hadn't been one of them. "I wasn't going to try."
His gaze shifted to the water once more lingering for a moment before looking back to Sarak, a question now formed in his mind. "What's it like? The other land on the other side of the water."
Sarak?s muzzle pulled into a smile at the boy?s answer. The mismatched blue and green eyes rested on him as he spoke, before turning back to he water. Sarak looked back to it as well, one ear cocking to take in Kismet?s question. Sarak pondered on that for a moment. Then answered.
?It?s big,? He said, turning his eyes to the boys. ?Big, and wide? Some places, it?s cold all year ?round, and others are hot, and not a wet hot like here. Dry hot, where it feels as though you may die without water, and you could. There are places covered in grass taller than I am, or even your mama.? A smile pulled at his muzzle. ?One day, you?ll see it, when you?re old enough to cross the water without your mama panicking.?
One moss green eye winked down at the boy as he finished speaking. ?I?m Sarak, by the way.? He added, not sure if Azalea had told her sons about him.
?It?s big. Big, and wide? Some places, it?s cold all year ?round, and others are hot, and not a wet hot like here. Dry hot, where it feels as though you may die without water, and you could. There are places covered in grass taller than I am, or even your mama. One day, you?ll see it, when you?re old enough to cross the water without your mama panicking.? Kismet hadn't really known what answer to expect from his question. The details were certainly wonderful to get that imagination sparking once more he could at least picture something though it certainly wasn't enough for him to really understand the world. How could everything be so different? He couldn't really recall the winter in his den back in Vericona Plains, the tropical warmth of the island was all he really knew.
?I?m Sarak, by the way.? He now had a name for the wolf he assumed to be his mother's friend. Not sure if the male knew his own, Kismet thought it best to introduce himself as well. "I'm Kismet." He responded. He wasn't really sure what else to say to Sarak's little description of the land across the sea, it had certainly given him a bit more to think about. There was one thing, he was in no hurry to leave his family, but perhaps he could go with his mother one day when she left. "How much older do you think I'll have to be?"
