. . .


It was a misty morning in the East. Cross had come quite a ways out from his usual haunt, but then, he was a perfectly capable traveler. Toddling along at his mother's hocks, he'd gone all the way from Glaciem in the north to Seracia in the far south. Before he was a year old he'd swum through the ocean channel between Alacritis and Nephilium Island. All that traveling only toned his already forming muscles. At 34 inches, Cross was taller than plenty of adults, and certainly taller any yearling had any right to be. His muscles still had alot of filling out to do of course, and if it weren't for his thick fur he would've looked more like a freakish white coyote than a real flesh and blood wolf. Cross wasn't the sort to put too much stock in build alone however; lately he'd done nothing but focus on his fight training.

But not today. Today he merely wanted to relax and think. The silent creature had tread on hushed black paws all the way from Soul Sand Cove, through woods and over feilds - out into what appeared to be moorlands. For a time he'd sat among the heather, waiting for the sun to rise and the shreds of mist to clear, but even as the morning dawned and the world grew more visible, the mist remained, trailing along the tops of the hills. The boy might've left then and sought some other spot of solitude, when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something out of the mist.

But just as quickly it was gone. He rose to his paws. What had that been? It looked huge - like a cliff face but strangely curved and with holes in it. Cross's curiosity was usually something he kept well reined in, but today...

Today he was going exploring.

Into the mist he delved, moving along at a swaybacked trot, with his head low and tail relaxed. He nosed his way through briars and past heather patches, and up over moss encrusted rocks, until at last he'd gained the nearness to see. And what he saw was unlike anything he ever knew. The usually rather broodish face, uncreased and his cream colored jaw unhinged ever so slightly. Emerald eyes were allowed to stretch wide as he lifted his head and took in the surroundings. Due to the slowly wafting fog, he could only see parts of it at a time, but it was... it was like... Well the only thing he could aliken it to was an old hornets nest he'd found once. The nest had all sorts of little chambers and passageways. This place was like that - only HUGE. In the back of his mind he remembered his old mother's tales of two-legs. Cruel fleshy creatures with the power of gods. Perhaps this was once their work, made long ago, before weather had worn smooth edges and moss and vines had been allowed to take hold. Cross stepped under a stone arch way and into the mist clouded castle.






. . .

Liberty I'm sitting pretty on the throne, there's nothing more I want, except to be alone The secluded female spent most of her time wandering aimlessly through unexplored territories. She had fled from her pack, whither someone had noticed she did not know, nor did she care. Her mother was gone, and with her fathers random disappearances, she was never certain when she would be shown affection. So, she fled, leaving the head-ache and the worries behind. Despite the expectations she faced she did not want to become beta anytime soon, and possibly, never. At one point it had been the dream her mother had drilled into her, but that her mother had passed, that dream was fading away. She had no desire to sit on a thrown, nor did she crave power; at least, not that type of power. She wanted to be dominated by the ghost she had met on a sheet of ice, but he had long vanished. Her paws kissed the earth silently as she took in the scene around her. She had never seen a place like this with ruins of past mammals that were believed to rule the earth. She had only heard stories of the animals that walked on two legs, and honestly she didn't believe a word she was told. How could something so ignorant rule the entire world, then vanish? It didn't make sense to her. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hardly noticed the odd colored boy walking through the mist before her. Pools of blue hovered over his figure, and for a moment she doubted he was even there. She had seen a few visions of her mother, mostly in her dreams, so maybe the dreams were becoming a reality? She sue hoped not. She wanted to say something, but her lips pressed shut as she followed after the ghostly figure before her. Was it Isardis? Part of her hoped so, but then again, she knew that man was dangerous. "Ghost? Is that you?" She would say softly, not wanting to startle whoever it was. "Speech."

. . .


With the air so light from altitude and clogged with water, it was hard even for a wolf to distinguish scents. Cross had no idea there was any other creature out there until, suddenly, a young feminine voice broke through the strange, unearthly silence. Cross looked ahead, squinting until his green eyes seemed to glow. There was someone else there. Her words were strange, he supposed he did look rather like a ghost what with his coloring. And besides, what sort of normal wolf hangs out in a place such as this. Hmmm... could say the same for her though. Was it really a wolf, or was this one of those mountain-spirits said to lure people away with sweet voices? Cross wasn't really one for fairytales. His childhood had ended long ago. Back when he'd watched Ithurial have her eyes ripped out and heard the murderous rogue known as Sixx scream for mercy before he was slammed down onto a bristling shard of pine wood. Gods how those scenes still poisoned his dreams. Even his waking hours sometimes. They'd shocked him into a prolonged silence that he was only now beginning to creep out of. Around his family and pack there was no pressure to speak, but around strangers, well, things were usually different.

Cross had raised his head, tail twitching at the end of it's length as he took in the form of a grey-black girl with interest. She almost looked like she could've been one of his family with that coat of hers. Face, still rather impassive, he cocked his head slightly. "I'm no one you know," he said quietly, voice a little rough from lack of use, but still obviously too young for so large a frame. "Why? Do you see ghosts too?" The tones were subdued, grave even. He didn't exactly mean ghosts in the literal sense - he wasn't insane, he didn't see figures rising up form the solid earth. But he was haunted all the same.




. . .

Liberty I'm sitting pretty on the throne, there's nothing more I want, except to be alone The illusion of a man turned out to be real, which surprised her. She had hoped it was the alluring ghost, but it was nothing more than a random boy she had never seen before. Typical. He was a big boy, and she could tell by his delicate features that he was not very old. He was possibly her age, or maybe a few months older. "Obviously not." She returned his bitter comment with one of her own. Sarcasm dripped hungrily from her maw as he tail licked her hocks. Her patience wasn't usually short, but she could tell already that they were starting on a bad foot. "Not necessarily. I've only seen one ghost, but he vanished shortly after taking what was left of me." When Isardis had left, he had taken the scared little girl with him. Due her mothers death she was maturing rather quickly, and after the meeting with the man on the ice she had practically turned into another woman. She had not experienced a true act of affection since her mother had died, and it was taking a tole on her. "Speech."

. . .


The grey she-wolf seemed to misread the roughness in his words for true spite. She replied back bitterly, sending Cross once more into silence. Honestly, it didn't really effect him, but it didn't induce him to extra polite in the future either. Here was another youth traveling on her own, who seemed to have developed her fair share of spunk. Perhaps life had been rough to her too. Eventually an explaination for her words came, informing the lad of why she'd called out to him in such a fashion. For a moment he rather regretted tacking the word 'too' only his earlier question. He'd let slip something about himself in hopes of finding someone who perhaps understood through a similar plight. But such was not the case.

Instead, the fae - who he couldn't deny was lovely - spoke of another real creature. And in such a pining sort of way that Cross couldn't help but frown. "Doesn't sound like a very nice wolf," came a rather toneless, frank muttering. Why was it that the darker-hearted wolves always seemed to go after the young? To spoil what should've been blissful childhoods? And why did the she-wolf sound like - like she was missing the so called ghost? Maybe it was just a trick of his ears. He wasn't exactly an expert at reading others. Still he felt called upon to embellish. "To have someone disappear, and be forced to remain little but an empty shell..." the words trailed into a sigh that was heavier than he'd meant it to be. It stung sharply of personal experience. His eyes had roved away - lingering over the ancient stone work as his mind sought to push finishing words to his tongue. "... I can think of few worse fates."

Cross had only recently heard the news: His mother and father were very soon to be departing. Crusade was old and knew her time for this world was not long. Cifer loved her more than life itself and he would go with her of course. But more than that - Creed, Cross's brother was going with them. And as for Crucible, Cross didn't seem to see him anymore, for all he knew the boy was sick of rogue band life and had wandered off already. Meanwhile Orica, his cousin was going off on some tom-fool healer's retreat, maybe for a year. Cross's immediate family - his one illusion of safety in the world - was disappearing.



. . .

Liberty I'm sitting pretty on the throne, there's nothing more I want, except to be alone The boy was unreadable, and it made the situation even more difficult. He had spit a bitter comment, but his face had not changed. It was blank, he was far better at hiding his emotions than she was. Her facial expression was lost somewhere between disbelief and annoyance. He had come off as harsh, but now he was feeling sorry for her. She didn't need anyone to feel sorry for her. "He was tempting at first, and became more desirable when out of reach; just like all things." It wasn't the man she craved, but the fact that he had up and left drove her mad. Well, she did crave him, but only because of his disappearance. If he would have dragged her back to his kingdom she would have despised it, at least she figured she would have. "I was an empty shell before he came along, he merely broke it." Of course she didn't literally mean a shell, she was referring to her defenses when it came to the white ghost. He had so much power over her and she didn't know why. "Speech."

. . .


Seemed the two of them were in the same boat. Or rather, each in their own boat, but drifting on the same trackless ocean. It wasn't that Cross would ever take pleasure out of another's pain, but the musings of the grey girl did peak his curiosity - not about what had caused her pain, per say, but how deep it went and what sort of soul she was to have dealt with it so far. Was she like him? Or was it just another breed of fate-induced heartbreak cursed to be on a shelf of it's own? With one black tipped ear cocked over so slightly, he gazed her direction, eventually gathering his hind legs to be seated for the moment.

There was no point in apologizing for what had befallen her. He knew nothing of it, and he had had no hand in the causing of it. Nor was there any point in making some sort of understanding remark. Not yet anyway. They were still strangers and they were wounded enough to react to eachother as such. Cross merely kept his seat among the misty ruins and let slow, steady breathings swell his rib cage.

In her own way the girl had been open, more so than Cross would've been inclined to be. For a time, words failed him. He was not the talkative sort by nature, and already he had linked more words together in a minute than he usually did in an hour or even a day. It was a respectful silence. He acknowledged the pain of the other, and that of himself; he would not cheapen it through petty condolences.




. . .

Liberty I'm sitting pretty on the throne, there's nothing more I want, except to be alone She had expected him to respond to her in some way, and when he remained silent she was a bit bothered. How could someone sit there quietly while another was before them practically giving them a life story? They were strangers, but Liberty had never fully understood the concept of strangers. She felt no reason to act different in front of some random wolf, she was the same person year round, even if she was maturing and twisting into a darker individual. Her morals would still remain the same, and voicing her opinion, was one of them. "I wish I could remain silent like you do. I was raised to voice my opinions and feelings despite what others thought. I have no concept of being shy either." She hoped she wasn't coming off strong, though she was barley giving him any information to feed off of. Who knows? Maybe the boy was shy. "Speech."

. . .



The girl was clearly not as at home in the silence as Cross was. Cross lightly tucked ears and sober expression were rather pale in comparison to the colorful words and strong attitude which was the chosen manner of the fae. She seemed puzzled by him, and hopefully not too offended or anything. Rather than continue on or join in the quiet or -as he had feared- ask him about the 'ghosts' he'd referred to, she made a comment on his chosen method of response. It was... thoughtfully put. This girl really knew herself quiet well. And yes Cross could see clearly that she was not one to hold back what went on behind those rain colored eyes. At the end of her words, Cross pawed the sod gently and flicked his ears a little. He didn't usually talk about himself, but the girl seemed to trying to figure him out just as he was with her.

"I'm not really... shy," the boy rumbled with quiet thought, "...so much as just... quiet. Kind of like you, I don't care what other people think, but I take it to the point of not even finding it worth my breath to tell them things." A low, solemn curl of air exited his sooty nose. "I wasn't always like that." He wasn't some freakish pup born with his mouth sewn shut. He'd been happy go lucky and talkative to the point of annoying. But not anymore.




. . .

Her ears swiveled forward as he spoke, and her iced gaze started to melt. Well good, he wasn't going to be silent this time around. Maybe he didn't have as hard of a shell as she thought. So he's not shy, just quiet? I can understand that. She thought to herself as she watched him. She started to relax, obviously he wasn't after her like the ghost was, she she let her muscles uncoiled and she rolled back onto her haunches. Her rump kissed the earth as she sat down, her charcoal colored tail wrapping around her front legs protectively. "I understand. I haven't always been this tense either." It was a simple statement, and if he wanted details she would give them, but she doubted that was the case. She was rather interested in him though, and why he had changed. Had something drastic happened to him as well? "What changed you?" Speech Thought Others

. . .






As he spoke, he glanced over once or twice, and to his surprise he saw the ice daggers beginning to drip away; her whole visage thawing over as she took the time to truly listen. It was... strange. Just being so honest and forthright for once - and to a stranger no less. But... it was working. The girl who had looked ready to whip a paw across his face earlier, was beginning to see things a little more from where he stood. She even went as far as to sit down, no longer looking like she just wanted an excuse to leave. Cross had grown quiet after he'd spoken, and in that pause he noticed these things through soft, guarded, emerald eyes. Again he wondered idly what sort of a wolf she was. But she was getting ready to speak and he was about to find out.

"-I understand-"

Those had not been the words he was expecting. But what she said made sense. Rather answered his earlier wonderings about her too. But now it seemed he'd made her curious, and as she asked that fateful question, the boy's brows knit together and his gaze fell away. Cross was lost in thought but clearly trying to answer. At first his visage was tinted by the slightest air of confidence and lightheartedness in the face of the past ? but quickly enough that cracked straight through and for a moment what showed instead was the utter terror of widened eyes, a quivering muzzle and flinching ears. But just for a heartbeat ? if Liberty blinked she would miss it. He just went back to his stoic expressions. They were what came naturally. If a little of his pain and sadness and fear showed through in the eyes, he couldn?t help, trying to force bravery just didn?t work.

So he merely told it like it was. Grim eyes were raised, a little hesitantly at first, and the words slowly came out. "I... saw stuff." Well, that was anticlimactic. There was more it just didn't want to come at first. Silence on the subject was all he had known for so long. It had been a coping mechanism of sorts, but now he saw it for it had become. A wall. An obstacle. And he would stand for none of those. He forced himself on after a swallow. "I learned things about-" he hesitated, wondering if she would understand, "-about the outside world... and what's really out there." There was a slight wince as in the same tones he rumbled out, "And I also learned that a wolf can have their eyes ripped out and their neck cut open and still live - for a while at least." Another swallow, this one accompanied by a hard, distasteful look that twisted his muzzle and hardened his eyes.

That had been a bad day.



. . .

Liberty I'm sitting pretty on the throne, there's nothing more I want, except to be alone She remained still, silent, and ever so observant of the boy before her. The more time she spent time with him, the more interested she became in him. At first he had been an illusion, a mirage of the man she was trying to avoid, but please, all at the same time. If he had been the ghost, things could have ended quickly right then and there- but thankfully it hadn't been him. She wasn't exactly in the mood to see Isardis, especially since he was after her and all. At least she assumed he was. The boy started talking, at first hesitant, but eventually, he let some words out. The story started leaving bad mental images in the girls mind, so she turned away from him for a moment. A dead body huh? Had he watched someone die? She had to admit, she was happy she didn't watch her mother die, but seeing her dead body dragged in debris and mud couldn't have been much better. She started to wonder what went through her head when she died, and what exactly did it feel like? Her mind started to wander, but she quickly shook the thoughts away. She didn't need to dwell on this right now. At least, not to the extent she was about to reach. "Sounds... Horrid." Were the only words she could manage at the moment. She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat didn't go away. "My mother... She was dragged through debris, mud, and murky water when she passed. The worst part was, I was so naive, that I thought she was still alive when my father finally stopped." The words were a hushed whisper for only him to hear. She wanted to whine, get up, cry, walk away, something- but she remained still, eyes drifted away from his gaze. All she could do was think "Speech."