Tor had been doing a lot of thinking on his own, and watching the southern packs (not any from the north, as he did not travel far enough from home to venture up there) as they dealt with a frightening disease and tried to prepare for winter. He'd been pretty young last winter, and inexperienced as it was his first as an adult and he really hadn't been much involved in the world outside his own problems. He'd finally gotten to the point, now, that he could look at the wolves of Ardent and not remember - in clear, painful detail - the aftermath of war, or battles to the death. He could see the potential instead, the potential for a deeply integrated community of wolves working to better life for themselves and everyone around them, instead of just fighting to survive. And that's what it seemed like, when he watched. There wasn't much anyone could really do to prepare for winter, so it was just all a matter of doing your best to survive it. You could gather herbs and store them, but at a frantic pace because you were doing so alone. Why couldn't more things be simply stored until they were needed? Why spend so much time scurrying trying to find prey when you could keep it close by? So many ideas tumbled around in his head, and though his youthful enthusiasm was tempered by a natural caution, talking it over with Aiden had merely solidified his resolve. But there was one problem. Namely, that problem was him. Or rather, the amount of hims there were, which was one. One Tornach, and one Aiden. Much of his plans would need something along the lines of a network of acquaintances which he had to admit he hadn't made much of an effort to acquire up to this point. He wasn't much good at actually getting out and meeting people, and his usual reticence made it difficult to really get to know anyone to the point of being able to build any sort of trust or working relationship. Other parts would need, purely and simply, more physical labor than a falcon could assist him with, even one as intelligent and beautiful as Aiden was. So he had gathered up every ounce of that resolve and returned to the one place he actually knew anyone. The last time he'd been here, he'd walked out of his mother's pack claim without even saying goodbye, nor had he seen anyone from his family or his mother's pack other than Baine and Zuriel since then. It wasn't likely to have gone over real well with everyone and he'd had no pressing desire to see anyone anyway so he hadn't pushed the matter. But the fact was that he needed help, and he lived literally the next land over. He couldn't keep putting off the inevitable. He came to a stop at Celestial's borders and breathed in the familiar scent of his family. Heavily interlaced with strangers now, yes, but he could still pick out the family scents easily. Aiden creeled encouragingly to him when he hesitated, preening a lock of fur behind his ear before she launched herself into the wintry sky to keep watch. His eyes followed her a moment before he sighed, stomped down his apprehension, and lifted his muzzle in a howl calling out to Celestial's leadership. Last he'd been here, his mother had been alpha, his father had been consort, and Regulus had been heir. He didn't know what, if anything, had changed since then, so he couched his call in vague terms. ""

-::-

“So, woundwort… good for stopping hemorrhages, easing pain, annnd…” The Crimson Archangel trailed off, muzzle tipping toward the ceiling of the main chamber of the family cave den as his ears planed to the sides in thought. “And healing cuts with poultices… There’s something else..” His head tilted to allow him a peek at Kavdaya’s amethyst flecked sapphire eyes, watching the Nomad’s mark rise as her brow points lifted encouragingly. He thought harder, then brightened and grinned. “Diarrhea. It relieves it, right?” The snowy Master Healer grinned briefly. ”Those are some of them. It can help with fevers, as well as expelling worms. Now, what time of the year should you look for it; when does it flower?” The crimson male thought back, then answered slowly, ”Late Summer…” The howl from a voice he hadn’t heard in ages interrupted Kavdaya’s affirmative answer, and Regulus’ head whipped around as his fathomless sapphire eyes widened slightly. “Tor?” He pulled himself to his paws, peeking into his mother’s alcove; she was conked out cold, taking a nap while Cinder watched the pups. Kavdaya could help with that. And perhaps it would be best if his mother was asleep. Considering she thought her wayward middle son hated her, and couldn’t understand why, the emotional pain might do her in. Especially with how easily she took ill, lately. He took a deep breath and trotted quickly from the cave, down the ravine, and out into the small chunk of woodland, taking a quick sniff to ascertain which way to go before he crossed into the plains. Despite his outwardly calm demeanor, his heart was hammering. There hadn’t been a major sense of urgency in his brother’s call. It hadn’t really even been directed specifically at one of the family. But who else would he be calling for? As his brother’s form came into view, standing at the borders, Regulus slowed, taking the time to inspect his brother closely for hurts, new scars, old scars… any sign of illness that meant he should call for Kavdaya or Zuriel. He seemed fine… Nervous, but fine… Regulus stopped a respectful distance away; about five feet within the border, posture easy, tail waving slowly above his hips. “I was beginning to wonder if we’d ever hear from you again.” Did Tor understand what his departure had done to their mother? That Baine had cried? He knew his sisters had run across Tornach. But their storm cloud brother had never sought them out. He was aware that his brother’s scent had been all over the Moor. But given the departure, he had chosen to avoid the fresher scents, and allow his brother to approach on his own terms. “We have three new siblings. Two girls, and a boy...” His face watched that of his brother as his haunches slowly lowered to the ground. If Tornach had any explanation of his behavior, Regulus was willing to hear it, but for now, his baritone rumble was simply relaxed, conversational. "What brings you to the border?" Had Tornach come because he wanted to see them, or did he just need something and had no choice?

It was the bright, obvious form of his elder brother that appeared to his call, not their mother. Tornach seated himself, tail curling around his hindquarters, in an attempt to look relaxed rather than threatening, though his posture was as straight and precise as it always was. He eyed his brother as he drew within range, but before Tornach could begin with innocuous greetings Regulus spoke first. Tornach drew back his muzzle back a minuscule twitch at the implied criticism, but did not snap defensively. "I have remained nearby," he instead said in a neutral tone. He made no attempt to explain or justify himself, because that would imply that he was wrong in his observations and decisions, and he did not believe he was. So instead he just met Regulus' eyes with his identical ones, calmly. Regulus' news, though, took him visually aback. His gaze widened, and a spark lit in its depths. They had baby siblings? Baby babies? But almost immediately his face clouded. Was that why it was Regulus meeting him here? "Is mother...?" he began in a burst, then hesitated. Was she all right? Surely Regulus would have said something right away if the birth had gone badly? A moment of blankness, and he cleared his throat. "Please give mother and father my congratulations. I hope everyone is doing well?" But he was here for a reason. Torn between family and his passion he tucked his chin down to stare at his paws a moment before steeling himself and lifting his eyes with firm resolve and injected confidence into his voice. "I came here to share with you a plan I have been working on. It will, I hope, change life for every pack on this continent." ""

-::-

He looked over his younger brother again, wondering just what had gone wrong to make him run away. However, he didn’t ask, at least not yet, instead nodding to acknowledge that he had known Tornach was near. “I know,” he supplied. “Since I don’t know why you ran off, I didn’t want to push you before you were ready… But we have missed you.” They were all genuine words, honest, and his face showed it. However much Tornach had hurt them by leaving without even saying why, or goodbye, the love was still there for his thundercloud colored brother. Tornach’s reaction to the news of more siblings brought a big grin to his face, his tail sweeping the ground behind him. And the blurted beginning of a question, he could guess the completion to. “Alright? Yeah. She was sick during the pregnancy, and there were two still born pups… But Rasiel, Laisrén, and Kieryn are all healthy, and more of a pawful than you and Baine ever were.” He chortled, but the smile fell away at Tornach’s request. He shook his head, slowly, then more firmly. “No, brother. I think you need to tell them yourself. I’m not going to request that you join the pack; clearly that’s not who you are, and I respect that. But you are family. Mom thinks you hate her, because you ran off after she told you she was proud of your actions, and you never told any of us why, or said goodbye. If you really don’t hate her, she needs to know, directly from you, so that when she has to go… she doesn’t die thinking one of her sons hates her, and she never knew why. She would never rest in peace. And she isn’t getting any younger.” A lump rose in his throat, and he blinked several times to clear the blurriness from his eyes, shaking his head quickly before he went on. “You don’t have to join the pack, not ever, but I don’t want our brother and sisters to grow up like you and Baine did, not knowing all their siblings. You’re free to enter Celestial’s lands anytime you wish to visit us and the kids. I’ll pass that on to the pack so they know you’re not a threat. I don’t want our family to stay fractured, Thundercloud… I really don’t. All I ask is that you spend time with us and visit. I’ll give you time to think on what you want to do. But just know that if you ever need us, we’re here. We always will be, and I would die before I break that promise, okay?” He gave his brother a long, steady look before he inclined his head and said, “As for how we’re doing, Mother stepped down just a few days before birthing. I’m the Archangel now. She’s gotten better, but I don’t think her health will ever really be the same. Creed’s the Right Wing. Faite’s risen to Legionary and doing well, and Baine to Emissary. Zuriel is working hard to keep the herbs stocked up; mom and I haven’t exactly been helpful, since we both got sick. Eh, life. Uncle Castiel’s back after he went missing, and we have two cousins that joined a while back. Acapella and Dagger; you should get together with the family now and then, meet everyone. Dagger’s as big as you and I.” He grinned at that; it seemed large wolves ran in the family. “Overall, everyone’s alive and well at this end of the family.” “Now, what’s your plan? It sounds big.” He leaned forward, heavy topics set aside for an intently interested expression, hips wiggling as his tail swept the ground. His brother was a smart one, so he had no doubt whatever he was putting together was going to be interesting, possibly even doing as Tornach suggested.

Ears fell back, and Tornach turned his head aside as his elder brother spoke. He was certainly intelligent and perceptive enough to recognize a guilt trip being laid on him, and it was being laid thick, but he was also a sensitive soul so... it was also working. "Ní ba mhaith liom dul isteach sa phacáiste fiú má rinne tú iarratas a dhéanamh dom mar sin, deartháir." In his discomfort he'd falling back into the warm cadences of the language he had spoken more often than not as a child. He could no more begin to explain to Regulus why he could not approve of Celestial than he could have explained it to innocent Baine. The unusually colored eldest son had always been special to the family, had grown up immersed in a completely different way than Tornach whose ties to the family while no less strong had been much more unsettled from the war. Or maybe his disillusionment was through his own fault. Maybe there was something wrong with him rather than the world. But he could not force himself past that. "Ach beidh mé a dhéanamh am chun cuairt ar an teaghlach go luath," he conceded softly. "Déanaim comhghairdeas tú ar do dea-fhortún, Archangel."

The whole encounter had soured for him despite his enthusiasm for his plans. He felt off balance and sick, and couldn't seem to find his footing in this conversation. Had he made a mistake, coming here for this? He had to press on regardless. He sighed out a quick breath and began. "It has occurred to me that much time and energy is wasted looking for prey in the winter when many wolves are already weakened by cold. I believe this struggle for resources is behind most clashes between packs, and I could possibly relieve some of that burden through trade and community rather than battle. I plan to create a neutral place where wolves can come to trade for what they do not have, whether it be things my people have raised or that others have to trade already. If I build enclosures, I could keep prey penned so that we always have access to them when they are necessary, and their dung could fertilize medicinal herbs we could provide for healers. If cared for properly the prey would replenish their own numbers at a constant rate to replace planned cullings. With the prey always on hand, we could afford to be more choosy with which we take, which would contribute to the health of the population and in return our own health." He paused finally, having exhausted much of his pitch in that one burst.