With a groan Valentine hauled himself out from under the tractor. The rusty bucket of bolts had been his favorite haunt for the last seven years. It had served him well. Despite its homely appearance the tractor was invaluable. It had been his watch tower, his shelter and his throne. It was a shame, really, that the years hadn't been kind to it. It was more rust than anything else at this point. Its windows were gone; its tires nothing but bare rims.

The forever king took a moment to adjust to the frigid morning air before stretching and shaking out his coat. An old fart now, he should have been sleeping his days away in the shade, but that wasn't really his style. Nah, he'd sleep when he was dead. Until then there was no rest for the wicked.

With a rolling, predatory slink Valentine set off towards the Orchard to see what kind of trouble he could drum up. Perhaps Cascade would join him. It had been awhile since they'd done something fun and it was time to change that. At least for him. He couldn't speak for her, but he itched for entertainment.

Ashmedai hadn't quiiiite found his way back to Abaven. After the one pup from there failed to stick around his new pack- and his family- Ashmedai wasn't really feeling too chummy with other wolves. In an unusual slump of feelings, Ash made his way back to the old Imperium lands. He thought that maybe one day he could rule over these lands. Of course, his brother had been better suited for it, but either way it never came to pass.

Ashmedai had to wonder what his siblings were up to now. Did they all have packs of their own or had they found themselves enough trouble to end their days in this realm?

One wolf Ashmedai hadn't worried about in a while was his father. Ash had figured he was long gone at this point. Every once in a while Ashmedai would let himself feel bad about it, but it wasn't often. As Ash toured the lands, he swore he could almost smell his father.

No wait, that was definitely real.

Ashmedai hurried up as quietly as he could. Sure enough, it was Valentine.

"So the old fart's still kickin' huh," Ashmedai announced with a large, lopsided smile on his face. It had been literal ages! Ashmedai couldn't even imagine how much his father may or may not have changed during that time. He just hoped he wasn't still plague-crazy.

It had been years since he'd seen some of his kids. Rhys he'd caught up with in Auster a few years ago, and Angelus he'd seen from time to time, but the rest? The rest, he hoped, were doing well. He hadn't seen them since the plague that had brought down Imperium, so when an unfamiliar voice brought his head around Valentine simply stared for several moments. Then it clicked and he grinned. That was Ashmedai, all grown up.

Overjoyed to see his son, he laughed and padded closer. "Still kickin' hard enough to beat your ass across the Range." Valentine was all talk, of course, but being called an old fart stung. Even if though it was true, it was one thing to think it and another to be called it.

He swept a probing gaze over Ashmedai. The boy - no, Valentine mentally corrected himself, he wasn't a child anymore - had done well, it seemed. He looked strong. Capable. "How have you been, Ashmedai?"

Valentine seemed delighted to see Ashmedai. Ash found that that look of validation filled his heart even more than he expected it to. His father said he could stick kick his ass up and down the Range. Ash gave a lopsided smile and nodded, "I'm sure you could," he said. "But we can maybe we can test it later. Y'know, just to be sure."

Valentine asked how he had been. How had Ashmedai been?

"I've been here and there, but not anywhere specific for too long," he said. It applied to his physical state as well as his mental state. "Some dumb pup got the idea to start a pack and since he was a product of Abaven, I thought I'd check it out. He hadn't even grown into his ears yet and he was talking about being the greatest kind the north had seen." Ashmedai snorted at the memory.

"He drew a good crowd- better than he deserved- but he turned tail and fled as soon as he got his kid girlfriend knocked up."

Ashmedai thought of anything else that had happened.

"Oh and Bass went crazy and ran off so Sparrow's running Abaven. And then there's the Abraxas. They're pretty cool, but kind of crazy. They think they're gods. If I follow what they think makes them special, then we're just as likely gods as they are."

It was all ridiculous. Ashmedai shrugged, "When you left, I think you took everyone's sanity with you." Or maybe you were the only sane one to begin with.

His tone feisty, Valentine retorted cockily, "Name the time and place, son, and I'm yours." He was mostly talk. If push came to shove, nothing would hold him back from a fight. It was entirely possible he'd bust a hip or something equally stupid and elderly, but eh, c'est la vie. He was old in body, but not spirit, and he had no intention of slowing down.

Valentine snorted derisively as Ashmedai told him about the young upstart thinking he was hot shit. It took more than a little wishful thinking to be a good king. Anyone could start a pack - Arian had proven that - but not everyone was cut out for the big league.

Both of Valentine's browspots shot up at the flippant mention of this "king" knocking up his kid girlfriend. The thought disgusted him.

And because they were already up, his browspots stayed up as Ashmedai mentioned what had happened to Bass. He wasn't sure whether to be saddened by this information or amused. It seemed the crazy bug was contagious. As for the Abraxas, Valentine rolled his eyes and fixed Ashmedai with a wry look. "They sound like a fun bunch." Perhaps it was because of his own pride, but Valentine had no patience for "better than you" types. Hard work had made him who he was. All his wins, all his loses. He'd earned his place in history. Could those "gods" say the same?

He snorted a chuckle. "Perhaps I did. I'd hate for you all to get bored in my absence."