Falling into the barrow on his first day moving the kids to the range had been the best thing that ever happened to him. Well, close to the best thing that had ever happened to him. The thing had been FULL of cool treasures that long-extinct humans had buried with their dead. Gold, silver, jewels, even some silks had survived. There were neat steel weapons in some of the crypts. His son and daughter had been raised among the treasures and had always had pretty much had the run of the barrow, and the knolls. Cas had died that spring, but she'd gotten to meet the next generation of Saxes and know that he'd made sure her name was passed on, so that was something, and she'd died in the same daredevil manner she'd lived. It had happened so quickly they had no time to say goodbye, but he knew she'd have preferred that to dying a lingering death. If she'd known that it would kill her... she'd have gone anyway. A good way to go out kicking, and memorable as hell.

It made him grateful to Leto for what she'd done, though, dropping those two kids on him. She might act like a tough little bitch but when it came down to it she'd cared enough to remember his anxieties about being the last to carry his mother's name, and gave up the chance to raise two of her blood as Aeris.

Damn, but he was melancholy today. Maybe it was because both the kids were gone today, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He stirred a pile of gold coins with his toes and sighed. Ah, hell, maybe he could go visit with his dad over in the range, see how he was doing. He did worry about Valen, though he would never, EVER dare let on that he did. He found out about it, the old man would probably put Chaos' nose in the dirt just to prove he still could, and give himself a stroke doing it, the stubborn old bastard. Well, Valen certainly wouldn't have any patience for brooding and self-pity, that was for sure. If nothing else he'd smack Chaos out of his funk.

With a massive yawn that bared every inch of long fangs, Chaos stretch and sauntered to the hole in the barrow he'd fallen into. It had ended up becoming the entrance, since it was already there and all, but the position so far up the wall made it a bit of a stretch to get to. Good thing both his kids were as tall as him now. He hopped out and moved out at a lazy trot towards Valentine's tractor.

"Hey dad," he called out when he was within earshot, laughing. "You still kicking?"

Valentine hadn't gotten much sleep since Rhythm and Rhyme resurfaced. The circumstances that had torn them away from him were too painful to be ignored and every time he lay down to sleep his mind whirred with fantasies of vengeance and captivity alike. Every thought of the misery his mate and son had suffered was immediately countered by some act of cruelty with which he would make it right. He had never wanted anyone to suffer as much as he wanted their captors to suffer. Had he been a younger man, had he still had his pack, Valentine would already have gone back. He would have ripped through the slavers with all the savagery he was entitled to. He would have eviscerated and beheaded until he was sated, and then he would have brought home a few emasculated pets to entertain and soothe himself with. But he was old. He was packless. And the one wolf who would have been at his side and reveling in the chaos as much as he, was dead. In other words he was powerless. And old. Very, very old. Just thinking of all he couldn't do made Valentine tired. Chaos' voice cut his brooding short. Without missing a beat, he snarked back, "Why don't you come on over and find out?" ""

Well, his dad certainly wasn't growing moss from his retirement. Chaos had hardly called out when the old man sent back a snarky reply from the top of his tractor. Chaos grinned and pranced closer. "And what if I did? What would you do, gum me to death?"

The familiar banter with his father was comforting. He'd grown up hearing it between both his parents even when he'd been too young to understand, and he and Rhys had their own - G rated - version of the witty repartee as they'd played. For a short time he'd had that with Artemis in Crew, then Leto. Maybe that's what had made them so intriguing for him, that they had the same snark and fire that he'd grown up to know as a proper relationship.

But the faint dissatisfaction and melancholy was still there beneath the laughter. He had to force the grin to keep from slipping from his muzzle when he reared up against the metal to get in his father's face. "You're going to get fat and gray laying there if you don't get exercise." God, HE was going to get fat and gray laying around here too. "What's new?"

In response to his son's retort Valentine simply lifted his lips in a casual and silent snarl that showed off his teeth. They might not have been a youthful, pearly white, but they were all there and time hadn't dulled them to the point of uselessness. He didn't have to say anything more on that subject, did he? "You're going to get fat and gray laying there if you don't get exercise." "Right," he sniped back, "Because all I do is lay on this rust heap and wait for my rotten kids to come visit me. Thank you," he said, pointedly eying what little space Chaos had left between them, "For stopping by. I needed a reason to leave." Of course it was all play. Valentine was pleased to see Chaos. Their family had drifted apart after Imperium disbanded and that was one of Valentine's greatest regrets. Briefly unable to meet Chaos' gaze as he considered his question, Valentine glared moodily at the barn. He then sighed tiredly, the sound odd coming from a man who'd been so fiery moments before. His gaze returned to Chaos. "Rhythm and Rhyme are back. Which is great, don't get me wrong, I'm...over the moon they're safe, but..." His fury flared to life again and he huffed angrily before growling, "But the circumstances that brought them back to us could be better." ""

In response to his father's silent snarl to show off HIS fangs, Chaos pulled the most hideous grimace he could manage, tongue hanging out, muzzle twisted, eyes crossed, but more importantly, every inch of his much longer fangs showing. Ok sure, Chaos was an adult, he was a father now as well, but had anyone ever really claimed that he had matured?

The grimace mutated into a cocky grin. "Oh no, anything but that! Whatever would I do?" he 'wailed' softly in a high pitched puppy voice. The grin felt a little forced after a moment, as the thought caught up to him that eventually, will-he, nill-he, Valentine would be leaving him just as his mother already had. The thought stuck in his throat and froze any more words.

Luckily Valentine filled the silence in a way that dropped Chaos' grin in a moment and made him choke for real. "They... what?" came the extremely intelligent reply. They'd come back? Why, after all their years of having abandoned Imperium, having caused it's dissolution, had she bothered coming back? He was glad to hear of Rhyme's return and would track him down as soon as he could to drag him off on wild adventures again, though it wouldn't be the same without Rhys, but why hadn't he come back sooner?

Chaos took a deep breath, quieting the sudden maelstrom of thoughts that chased each other wildly through his head. "What circumstances are those?" he asked in a too-calm voice. It's hard to take someone seriously when they have to say "thurcumthtantheth" but there you have it. Chaos' expression had closed down entirely, inscrutable and still. He didn't know what to think about Rhythm's return - he knew his father had loved the woman, but between vague memories of her disappearing, and stories of the days before his birth, it seemed to him like she constantly brought trouble and pain along with her. If that's what love meant, count him a bachelor forever. And now she was back, and apparently trouble and pain galloped along behind her again, if the look in Valentine's eyes was any indication.

For many moments rage rendered Valentine mute. He glowered down at the blistered paint between his paws. His jaw worked as he traced the patches of rust that dotted the tractor's hood and marred its otherwise smooth surface. Finally, when he felt he could speak without snarling, he grounded out, "When they disappeared all those years ago, they disappeared because some..." Valentine struggled to find the right word to describe those loathsome creatures. After a beat he had to just give up and call them what they were. "Slavers took them. They blinded Rhythm and kept them both all these years." "So," he said briskly in a tone that was far too light for both his mood and the topic of discussion, "To make a long story short, those circumstances are this: somewhere out there is a big ole band o' bastards who owe me four years worth of suffering." ""

Chaos had a moment of vague confusion at Valentine's words as the former alpha began to speak. They were mad at slavers? When had they turned into goody-goody Abaven or Celestial types? They'd always been slavers themselves, because that was what one did. Some people were just inferior to others, and the superior... oh. Apparently he should have just finished listening instead of jumping to conclusions, because that explanation went a very different direction that his thoughts had gone.

A flash of white-hot fury seared through him, curling his lips up to reveal every inch of fang. These weren't just slavers. These were slavers who had somehow waltzed into Imperium's territory unnoticed, captured the alpha's mate and child, then proceeded to abuse and abase them for years in a blatant show of disrespect towards Imperium, Valentine, and by extension all of the Imperialis blood. It was the ultimate 'fuck you' and those slavers had spent the last several years giggling and snickering at how they'd gotten away with it.

"They took my brother captive?" His words came out harsh and gutteral, a wild sound that most who'd known him as the laughing trickster he'd always played himself off as wouldn't have recognized as belonging to him. "Every humiliation, every fucking scratch he got as their captive I will take out of every fucking one of them a thousand times over." He closed his jaws with a click and drew a deep breath through his nose. In, out. In, out. "How do you want to do this?" Rhyme was Chaos' brother, but Valentine had been their alpha and father, and Rhythm was his mate. Chaos had no doubt at all in his mind that he'd be the one to lead any revenge scheme, regardless of his age.

"They took my brother captive?" With the utterance of these words Valentine recognized his work was done. He seated himself, the very picture of regal repose, and fixed Chaos with a look that belied his true feelings. His expression was cool - detached even - but his eyes glittered with malice. Finally, someone who got it. Chaos hadn't said it in so many words but Valentine was convinced his son understood. They had been stolen from. Their revenge would come years too late, but it would come. "I'm gathering an army," he said calmly. "We'll march on their camp. And," here his tone took on a lackadaisical air and his lips lifted in what could have been a small playful smile were it not for the topic being discussed, "I haven't decide what I will do next, but I can promise it won't be pretty." Offhandedly, he sniffed, "I'll try to save you some." On a more serious note, he added, "I'm debating the merits of attacking in winter. I still need to gather information on their camp from Rhyme but pinning him down has been proven difficult as he insists on traipsing between Abaven and home whenever the urge strikes him." He huffed. "Which is often." ""

Though a consuming rage still bubbled beneath his skin, the logistics of a campaign intrigued him enough to distract him. He tilted his heavy head to one side and made himself sit though his body protested its need to go rip something apart. "Why do you want to attack in winter?" Despite his anger his tone was interested, ears pricked towards Valen in alert curiosity. "Since I'm assuming we will leave no one alive to follow us, leaving prints in the snow that would lead them back here is probably not a concern," he mused aloud. "Are they part of a slave network or independent operators?" A network of slavers might or might not take offense to one of their own groups being wiped out. Some would, but others might just see it as an opportunity to take over their operation without any resistance. Others might just be too cowardly to risk going after a clearly stronger group on the behalf of dead wolves. Honor was a rare sort of thing among that type, generally speaking, but it did exist, and might a group try to tail them? It was worth a thought. They'd need a strong base to return to, and without Imperium they didn't have that. His tail lashed restlessly as the melancholy of earlier sought to creep in through the rage at the thought, but he shut it firmly away with an internal snarl. "Who are you thinking to bring in on this d'you think?"

Valentine shot Chaos a wry look. "It's sooner than spring." Jesting aside, he had his reasons. "If they're a mobile band the winter will be harder on them than us. The falling snow will hide our approach and our retreat." Although as Chaos pointed out, he hoped to leave none behind to follow them home. To this statement Valentine simply canted his head. He sighed, "I don't know, that's yet another thing I need to ask Rhyme." The answer would no doubt alter his plans. Wryly he muttered, "Gonna have to tie that boy to a rock until all my questions are answered." As for who was going with... "As many of your siblings as I can gather. Angel's son Jupiter, Rhyme. Do you remember Avalon? She's pledged her family." After a beat, he added, "We'll need many more than that, though." ""

Chaos grinned at Valentine's purported reason for attacking in winter. Ok yeah, waiting until spring, while it wouldn't necessarily matter in the long run if they delayed their vengeance, certainly didn't to appeal to him either. Or would it matter? He frowned suddenly. "Is there any possibility that they might be followed?" Certainly nothing was impossible, and if they had been followed... the slavers could already be looking for them here. Even if they killed every single slaver still left in whatever band or pack they called home, there could already be a war party on their way here, biding their time to recapture their escaped slaves when the Imperialis family was gone. Or to return to warn the slavers of the impending attack, so that they would arrive there to find that the rats had already abandoned ship. Chaos sent a grim glance towards Rhythm's old den, where he was sure she'd set up shop again. "Whenever you are ready to go, I will be right beside you. I'll let Ares know - I've been training him and his sister since Leto brought them to me, but Lyra's not around right now. She's off 'finding herself,' whatever that means." He was quiet a beat, thinking about who else was still around, but there weren't many Imperium wolves left. "I'll see what I can do about getting the old crew back together," he promised with a fierce nod. "We were all getting too lazy anyway, we could use a good old fashioned slaughter to liven things up again."